


outro with bees

by sacrosanct (Fractusfortis)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Fjord/Jester Lavorre, Minor Kima/Allura Vysoren, Picks up mid-121, Smut, Temporary Character Death, shadowgast if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fractusfortis/pseuds/sacrosanct
Summary: It’s not the worst way to go out, Beau thinks as she watches a wave of wild, uncontrolled magical energy burst from Jester’s hand and subsequently disapparate every person on the battlefield, both Mighty Nein and Tombtaker alike. At least they’re bringing those fuckers out with them. She stands steady and waits for the blast to crest over her, closes her eyes and anticipates oblivion.orBeau and Yasha strike a balance
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 217





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this one after 121 aired, expecting it'd be in the 7k-10k word range, but it quickly spiraled out of my control. Assumes canon through about halfway through 121 and diverges from there.

It’s not the worst way to go out, Beau thinks as she watches a wave of wild, uncontrolled magical energy burst from Jester’s hand and subsequently disapparate every person on the battlefield, both Mighty Nein and Tombtaker alike. At least they’re bringing those fuckers out with them. She stands steady and waits for the blast to crest over her, closes her eyes and anticipates oblivion.

Dying, as it turns out, feels a lot like being tackled off the edge of a cliff. At least, that’s what she thinks until she opens her eyes. Beau finds herself in Yasha’s arms and they’re both falling off the cliff they had been fighting dangerously close to, careening into the dark chasm below. Then their plummet stops. Yasha’s wings appear, their radiant light illuminating the gaping abyss surrounding them. Beau suddenly feels impossibly small, hovering there in the gigantic crater, and she tightens her arms around Yasha’s neck. She feels Yasha give her body a reassuring squeeze before beating her wings harder and propelling them upwards.

They make it back to the cliff edge. Yasha lands gently on her feet and sets Beau down. The battlefield is still empty, drenched in a sickening quiet. “Beau…” Yasha’s voice is shaky as her wings begin to fade, “Are you alright?”

“Uh… Yeah. I think so… shit.” Beau presses the heels of her hands into her forehead, trying to comprehend.

“Did you… Did you see what happened?” Yasha’s voice is barely above a whisper as she looks out on the barren land in front of them.

“I, uh.” Beau tries to push the shock from her body, willing her brain to work faster. “Jester cast something. It didn’t… I don’t think it worked out like she intended. The magic here must’ve fucked with it. There was a blast of energy. Then they were gone. All of them. Everyone.” She shoves her hands in her pockets to hide their shaking.

“Do you think it’s like when Jester banishes things? Maybe it was just reflected back onto them or something.” Yasha has moved back closer to her, so much so Beau can feel the heat of her body.

“That’s…” Beau contemplates it for a moment. “That’s a really good theory. Yeah. Maybe that’s what happened.” She sinks her teeth in and runs with it. “Okay. So if that’s true, they should reappear here any minute. Maybe with the Tombtakers, maybe not. Hopefully not. But we should be ready just in case. Or! It could be the casters are tapped out. So maybe they have to rest for a day, wherever they are, before they can get back. Either way, we should wait here. Yeah. Wait here until they get back.” Beau knows she’s rambling, but it’s helping calm her raging nerves.

“Okay. We wait,” Yasha agrees. They stand on guard for the first five minutes, Belabor and Magician’s Judge at the ready. Those minutes pass emptily and their guard lowers with them. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes pass, then an hour, then two, with only the faint sound of snowfall and the whisper of wind. They decide to make camp for the night, still resolutely sure they would see their friends in the morning.

Yasha starts a fire while Beau clears a space for their bedrolls under a small nearby outcropping. When things are as comfortable as they can possible make them, both women bed down, pressed back to back tightly against each other. It’s only testament to the post-battle exhaustion that sleep finds Beau at all, but she only makes it through a couple hours uninterrupted before the cold bites her awake. She tries readjusting her blankets, blowing hot air onto her hands, but nothing seems to stop the full body shivers racking through her.

She turns over towards Yasha. The other woman is still, seems to actually be asleep, or is at least not physically showing how cold she is. Beau almost feels bad about waking her up, but her own need wins out. “Yasha,” she whispers, “Yash… are you awake?”

Yasha awakens with a start, sitting up onto her elbows. “Beau? Did something happen?”

“No, no. It’s just… I’m so fucking cold. I feel like I’m gonna freeze to death.”

Yasha’s face softens in understanding. She opens her blanket with one arm and beckons Beau toward her. “C’mere”, she says, voice still rough with sleep. Beau doesn’t even think about the potential implication or awkwardness. She gratefully crawls over and on top of Yasha, settling against her, front to front. Yasha pulls both their blankets over them as Beau ducks her face into the crook of Yasha’s neck. Sleep finds her again in minutes.

Beau wakes up in Yasha’s arms, position identical to the one she fell asleep in. The sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon, painting the perpetual winter’s sky with oranges and pinks. Yasha’s still slumbering peacefully, so Beau decides to let her rest and slips out of the embrace as silently as she can. She walks a few yards away to relieve herself and then wanders over to the field where the fight took place. It’s still empty. Their footprints from the previous day are almost covered by the new snowfall, now just ghosts of the chaotic movement of battle.

She takes one last sweeping look across the landscape before turning around. A few steps in, her foot comes down on something small and hard. She bends down, brushing the snow away, and finds a tiny, glimmering piece of amber. “Oh shit”, Beau says to herself as she turns the stone over in her palm. She has no idea how this thing stayed behind during the blast, can’t even begin process a reason. She tucks it away in her pocket.

Beau returns to their makeshift camp. Yasha’s still asleep, but turned on her side. Beau sits down by the fire, stokes the low rumbling embers back to life, and opens her pack. She pulls out her emergency rations and takes stock. If Yasha doesn’t have any in her own pack, they’ve got enough food for two days, maybe three if they eat light. Not that it will come to that, she thinks, they’ll be having a nice warm meal in Caleb’s tower by the end of the night.

“Morning”, Beau hears Yasha grumble from behind her and turns back to look. Yasha’s sitting up, hands on her knees and blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Nothing yet?” Beau doesn’t need to ask what she means.

“No. Not yet. Got some breakfast cooked up for you, though”, she jokes lamely and waggles a piece of jerky. Yasha moves to sit next to her and takes the dried meat, tearing into it immediately. She pulls the amber from her pocket, holds it out in her palm to show Yasha. “I found this. When I was walking around.”

“Oh my… Is that Caleb’s?”, Yasha asks leaning over to inspect it.

“Pretty sure.” She tosses it up once, catches it.

“How did it… What does it mean?”

“No fucking idea. I guess somebody just dropped it during the fight.”

“Is the crest still in there?”

“As far as I’m aware.”

“Shit. What are we gonna do with it?”

“Hold onto it, I guess. Neither one of us can open it and it’s too dangerous to just leave here. But man, I am suddenly extra thankful we dumped DeRogna’s body in the lava when we had the chance.” Yasha laughs at that and they continue eating their rations for a moment before Beau speaks up again. “Hey, listen,” she starts, “Sorry about last night. I guess I don’t, um, handle the cold very well.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about it. Really.”

“I mean, I’m the one who said I wanted to take things slow and then I crawled on top of you in the middle of the night.”

“Beau, it’s... These are extenuating circumstances. We can go back to doing things all traditionally when our friends get back. ‘Til then, I guess we’re making our own way.” Yasha covers one of Beau’s hands with her own, giving it a squeeze.

* * *

The day is spent waiting with increasingly edgy impatience. Both women snap to attention at any little noise, hoping that every snap of a twig by a nearby animal or caw from a passing bird is the first signal of their returning friends. Such a signal does not come and the sun begins to fall on Beau and Yasha again. They retreat to their little campsite and prepare for the coming night. Though neither has yet spoken of it, the grim possibility of their friends’ fate grows larger by the moment, looms over them like a shadow.

They eat – more dry jerky from Beau’s pack – in relative silence by the fire. When they’re finished they sit, still silent, neither yet wanting to give into the call of sleep, afraid of what that surrender might mean.

“Beau…,” Yasha starts but is quickly cut off.

Beau abruptly stands. “Let’s just… Fuck. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? I can’t…” Beau takes a stuttering breath, unaware until now how close she was to tears. “We can talk about everything in the morning.” And she hurries over to the bedrolls, turning them down.

“Beau.” Yasha says, gentler, sadder.

“I know, Yasha. Just… I know.” Yasha doesn’t press further, just follows Beau over and settles down. She pulls Beau onto her chest again and Beau is grateful she didn’t have to ask. Much later, after hours of restless, intermittent sleep, Beau sheds her first tears for her lost friends; just a few, dripping hot onto the skin of Yasha’s neck.

Morning comes and the area around them remains still. A sense of dread forms in the pit of Beau’s stomach when she notices the dense cloudy sky. She’s not sure they’re well equipped enough to outlast a strong snowstorm.

“Hi.” Beau can feel the rumble of Yasha’s voice from her spot against her chest.

“Hi,” Beau replies, angling her head so she can see Yasha’s face, “How long have you been up?”

“A while. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.” Beau feels a brief happy tug in her belly until guilt kicks it back down. Their friends are missing and she’s here getting all gooey over her crush. She pushes herself up and goes to stoke the fire. If Yasha notices her shift in mood, she doesn’t say anything, just gets up and begins to divvy up their morning rations.

It’s after breakfast when Yasha finally says, “Beau. We have to talk about it. We can’t… We can’t stay here forever.”

Beau drops her head onto her knees, letting the weight of the moment crumple over her. “I know,” she says, more to her thighs than to Yasha. “I know things… don’t look good right now. But… one more day, Yash. Let’s just wait one more day.”

“Okay,” says Yasha as she wraps an arm around Beau, pulling her closer.

They don’t make it one more day. They hardly make it past noon. The snowstorm Beau had initially feared arrived with fury just a couple hours after waking. They’d tried to ride it out, fashion some kind of makeshift shelter, but the weather proved too fearsome an opponent. They stumble to the forest across the way, hoping the trees will provide them some cover. The dense treeline does provide them some reprieve from the precipitation, but also shields them near completely from any view of the sky, leaving them with almost no ability to navigate.

They hold hands, pulling each other along and making sure they don’t lose one another. Yasha leads, her longer legs and stronger form proving more effective for moving through the rapidly rising snow. Beau keeps her head down, lets Yasha lead her blindly, as she tries to keep the snow out of her eyes.

“Don’t let go, Beau!”, Yasha yells back to her, “We have to find a cave or part of a ruin or something. Then we’ll be okay!” Beau just squeezes her hand back in recognition and prays to whatever god is watching that Yasha will lead them to safety.

Beau isn’t sure how long they trudge for. It feels like hours but she knows it’s probably more like minutes. She’s freezing and burning up at the same time, her body hot and dripping with sweat from the exertion of moving through waist deep snow. She’s soaking wet, but her throat is bone dry. She wants to take out her water skin and slug the whole thing down but she wants to let go of Yasha’s hand even less. The trees seem endless. There’s no landmarks, nothing to mark their path. They could be going in circles and they wouldn’t have a clue. Yasha still pulls them along.

Then, “Hey!”, a new voice rings out from somewhere to Beau’s left. They both stop immediately, both search for the source of the sound. For a moment Beau sees nothing, then Yasha yells out, “Hey! Over here!” and waves her free hand. It’s then that Beau sees Dagen cutting through the snow towards them in his chair, plow affixed to the front. She lets out a disbelieving gasp of a laugh.

“Follow me, ladies. We’ll save the pleasantries until we’re out of this mess”, Dagen says gruffly when he reaches them. He spins around and cuts them a new path back from where he came. They walk for a maybe ten minutes, traversing made much easier thanks to Dagen’s chair. They come up on an encampment dug low against a large boulder with a thick burlap canvas stretched across it as a roof. They all settle in quickly.

“Holy shit,” Beau says, panting, as she sits down, “Thanks man. I thought we were goners for a second there.” Yasha plops down next to her.

“Been tracking you guys for days. Kept getting caught in this same damn storm, slowing me down. Now, where’s the rest of the group? You two can rest here while I go find them.” Beau and Yasha stay silent, dark looks taking up residence on their faces, and unable to make eye contact. “Oh. Oh no.” Dagen drops his head into his hands and stays quiet for a moment. “Was it… Is there something you’re running from? Some kind of beast or creature? Is that what happened?”

“No, no. It was…”, Beau’s voice cracks as she begins to explain, “It was magic. It went wrong. They’re just… gone.”

“Godsdamnit. Shit. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He pauses. “How about I cook us some food and then we can talk about what you wanna do next?”, Dagen gently offers.

“That would be great. Thank you, Dagen,” Yasha says sincerely.

Dagen cooks them some kind of meat over the fire, maybe squirrel or possibly hare; neither woman asks, both just thankful to have something hot and substantive in their bellies. Dagen tells them about his journey while they eat and Beau is glad to have something else to focus on, if only for a little bit.

“So,” Dagen starts after they finish their meal, “Where were you thinking of heading? Back to Balenpost? I know leaving in this situation is hard. It feels like you’re leaving them behind, but… It’s really not safe to linger around these parts, even for people as capable as yourselves.”

“Um, we haven’t really talked about it,” Yasha answers and glances over at Beau, who has just been staring silently into the fire, “But, Dagen, we can’t exactly pay you right now. Our money… it’s mostly gone too.”

“I figured as much. But I thought I’d do this out of the kindness of my heart… for once. I’ll be heading back that way myself, so it’s not really any trouble.”

“Actually”, Beau speaks up suddenly, “Do you know where the Dynasty outpost is? We know someone there who could help us.” Yasha raises an eyebrow skeptically, but doesn’t question.

“The Dynasty outpost? Yeah, it’s on the way back south. I can get you close, but I don’t feel too comfortable going there myself, considering my ties with the Assembly and whatnot.”

“Great. That’d be great. How long? ‘Til we can get there, I mean.”

“Day or two, depending on the weather.”

“Awesome. Let’s get some sleep then, eh? So we can get an early start.” Beau starts setting up her bedroll, a renewed hope lit freshly in her chest. Yasha and Dagen follow slowly, a little bewildered. She shoots Yasha a look, an ‘I’ll explain later’ type deal. Yasha seemingly understands and nods back.

Sleep comes a lot more comfortably in Dagen’s camp and Beau makes it through the night mostly uninterrupted. She wakes first and tries not to be _too_ annoying as she hurries Dagen and Yasha through the morning. They hit the trail under a thankfully cloudless sky; Dagen estimates they can make it to the outpost before dark if they make good time. It’s into the afternoon when Yasha and Beau fall a little further back, outside of Dagen’s earshot.

“Beau, are you sure going to Essek is a good idea? I thought we decided he was too untrustworthy to know what was going on.” Yasha falls instep beside Beau, their arms brushes against each other.

“That was before. You said it yourself, these are extenuating circumstances. He’s a powerful as fuck wizard and I think he cares at least a little about us on a personal level. He could help, Yasha. And if he doesn’t want to, well, I’m not above resorting to blackmail at this point. And we have enough dirt to blackmail that dude to the Nine Hells and back.”

Yasha looks to the sky, contemplating for a moment. “Okay, you’re right. But I really hope it doesn’t come to blackmail.”

“Me neither, but we have to do everything we can, right?”

“Right.”

Their fingers are bumping against each other and Beau wants so desperately to lace them together, hold Yasha’s hand tight against hers, but somehow their dynamic has become even more difficult for Beau to understand and navigate since the... incident happened. She pulls her hand up to her head to scratch nervously at her undercut instead. “Okay. Then let’s speed up. I really want to make it there today.”

* * *

They make great time and catch their first sight of the Dynasty outpost, its dome of magically created night a stark contrast to the snowy white landscape around it, just as the sun is beginning to set. Dagen sees them off, opting to make camp for the night in the nearby woods instead of continuing further. Yasha and Beau climb the hill towards the outpost gate.

Beau flashes the Bright Queen’s medallion to the guard and they’re let right in and swiftly led to Essek’s location. The guard shows them to a large tent in the center of the encampment and takes his leave with a curt nod.

“Uh, knock, knock”, Beau says at the door when she realizes there’s nothing to actually knock on, “Essek? Are you there?” She hears the rustling of papers before the tent flap swings open and Essek is standing – floating, rather – right in front of her.

“Beauregard? Yasha?” Essek looks genuinely surprised, the frazzled expression foreign on his usually collected and calm face. “What are you – I had assumed Jester would message before… Are they… Oh no.” Essek picks it up quickly and she’s eternally grateful for it, that she won’t have to say the words out loud. “Come in.” He floats back inside the tent quickly, beckoning them to follow.

Beau and Yasha tell him everything about the fight, every detail they can remember, everything except the little vault of amber Beau has safely in her pocket. It’s hard, seeing as Yasha and Beau know very little about magic, but Beau thinks they’ve done a decent job of painting the picture.

“Just gone? Everyone?”, Essek asks and then adds quietly, “Caleb?”

Beau quirks an eyebrow at that and feels Yasha shift beside her, so she must’ve noticed too, but affirms without comment, “Yes. Just gone in a flash. Jester likes to use a spell that banishes. It looked kind of like that’s what she was doing.”

“Okay,” he says, already moving towards his pile of books, “Okay. I will get started right away. I’ll have someone set you up a tent where you can rest. There has to be a way to fix this.”

“Essek,” Yasha says, “Are you sure you don’t need our help? We’re more than happy to stay.”

“I mean no offense at all with this, but I think you’ve helped all that you are able. This will take someone more versed in the arcane to crack.”

“Alright, but if you need us…”

“I will find you.”

* * *

A new guard leads Beau and Yasha to a small tent in the corner of the outpost. He holds open the flap for them dutifully before departing back to his post. The canvas of the tent is thick and it’s warm when they enter; so warm Beau thinks she might actually be able to sleep with her boots off. There’s a camp stove with a fire already burning, and a hot meal prepared and waiting for them on a table, a basin and towels for washing up, and only one bed. “I think they might’ve made some assumptions about us,” Beau states with a nod towards the bed.

“Maybe”, Yasha says, “But they weren’t exactly wrong, were they?”

Beau looks over to her, “Uh… I mean…”

“We’re not just friends, are we? I know we didn’t get to have our date and I know we haven’t talked about it, but…”

“Yeah, no. Definitely,” Beau stumbles out, caught a little off guard that they’re having this conversation now, of all times. It’s overdue, though, she knows, and it would only make things more awkward between them the longer it’s put off. So she stifles her worst first instinct – the one that’s telling her to deflect or run or make a crude joke – and continues, “We are for sure more than friends, Yasha. It’s just, I wanted so badly to do this the right way, not just for us, but for me. Because I really don’t know how to do this. And now we’ve been thrust into this immensely fucked up situation that’s making me feel a million different things all at once, but under all of that I just… want you. I want you _so_ bad. And I really, _really_ do not want to fuck this up.” Once they start, the words flow from her like a mudslide, heavy and unstoppable. And then she stands there, empty and wordless, and she’s sure she’s never felt so vulnerable in her life.

Yasha takes Beau’s hands in hers; it’s grounding, Beau’s jittery palms fall still in Yasha’s steady grasp. “I want you, too, Beau.” Yasha is sure and gentle with her delivery. “And I get that it’s easy to feel guilty about wanting when all of this is going on, but I think that denying this”, she squeezes their hands tighter, “will only make us feel worse. And it certainly won’t help bring our friends back. So let’s just figure it out as we go, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Beau exhales. “But I don’t even know where to start…”

Yasha’s lips quirk in a smile. “How about dinner?” Her eyes flit over Beau’s shoulder to where their meal still rests on the small wooden table.

Beau smiles back. “Dinner sounds great.”

They take their time eating. They down the entire pot of the hearty stew that was prepared, conversation flowing with a fluency Beau wasn’t quite expecting. It’s so much easier now that their feelings have been bared; there’s no emotional pratfalls to navigate around, no coyness that needs playing up. It helps that Beau just finds Yasha _fascinating_. Part of her worries she’s asking too many questions, but Yasha seems more than happy to divulge.

There’s a desert prepared, too, just two pieces of a simple kind of sweet bread, an obvious delicacy here in the frigid outpost. Beau scarfs hers down in no time flat, only remembering to feel embarrassed when she’s licking her fingers after, while Yasha laughs lightly at the sight. She apologizes bashfully for her poor manners, but Yasha only tears off a corner of her bread and slides it over in response. “Since you liked it so much,” she says with a puckish smile. They laugh together as Beau pops it in her mouth and licks her fingers clean again shamelessly.

Sleep calls to them strongly; they’re both exhausted from the previous days and nights braving the tundra. Beau slips off her boots and coat and slides under the heavy quilt, waiting for Yasha to climb in beside her. The bed isn’t exactly roomy and when the mattress dips under Yasha’s weight, causing Beau to roll just a bit closer, she makes no move away. It’s the best night Beau’s had in a while. She’s warm, pressed hip to hip with Yasha in a comfy bed, and brimming with confident hope in Essek’s ability to return their friends to them.

* * *

Yasha and Beau return to Essek’s tent after breakfast. They find him in almost the exact same place they left him: behind his desk, pouring over various tomes and notes, wearing the same outfit as the day before.

“All nighter, eh?,” Beau says as she sits on a nearby chair, straddling it backwards and resting her forearms on the back, “So I take it you’re still looking then.” Yasha hovers behind her, arms crossed.

“I am, yes”, Essek answers then stands, floats around the front of the desk, “I thought I would try the most obvious solutions first, which… have not been successful, clearly. Not entirely surprising, as nothing about the magic here is simple. Retrieving your friends is going to take a bit more ingenuity, I’m afraid.”

Beau frowns. “How sure are you that you can do this, Essek? Really. No bullshit.”

“Reasonably sure.” Essek’s response is cool, his face unreadable. Beau draws the breath to challenge him, but stops when she feels Yasha’s hand on her shoulder.

“We trust you. We’ll get out of your hair, let you work,” Yasha says as she guides Beau to stand, walks them back to the entrance of the tent. “And, Essek?”, she turns back to face him just before exiting, “They’re your friends, too. All of us.”

Essek’s face softens but he just nods in response before getting right back behind the desk, cracking open a new book.

Beau is still tense after they leave Essek’s tent, concern etched on her face. Yasha suggests they spend the day outside of the outpost, exploring the nearby forest. Beau eagerly agrees; she’s not super keen on waiting around all day back in their tent with no distraction for her restless mind. They make the half hour trek to the forest and spend the day within the dense trees. They hike a ways in for a while, until Beau starts climbing. She jumps from branch to branch deftly, causing little snow showers to fall on the ground below and sending perched birds scattering into the sky. She tries to coax Yasha up with her a couple times, knowing the barbarian is just as physically capable as her, but Yasha declines, opting to watch fondly from the bottom.

Eventually Beau comes to a large sturdy branch – perfect for meditating, she decides. Yasha gives her some privacy, going off to examine a small cluster of hellebores she’d spotted a few yards away. Beau settles into her cross-legged seat and attempts to let her thoughts melt away. It’s difficult at first, to push away the images of the past days: the blast, the empty battlefield, the snowstorm, the look on Dagen’s face when they told him, Essek’s tired eyes, and Yasha. Always Yasha. Her face is the last thing Beau sees before wins the battle against her tireless thoughts and everything melts away.

When she opens her eyes again the sun is maybe an hour away from touching the horizon line. Beau looks down to see Yasha propped up against the base of the tree, dozing with her journal in her lap. She smiles to herself before swinging down to the ground, the noise from her impact causing Yasha to startle awake. “Better be getting back. Sun’s gonna start setting soon,” she says, helping Yasha to her feet after she’s regained some composure. Yasha just hums in agreement and begins leading them back, never letting go of their joined hands.

The sun is beginning to set in earnest, the orange light of the sky filtering down onto them through pine needles and branches, when they come up on the edge of the treeline and Yasha pulls on Beau’s hand to bring her to a stop. “Beau, before we go back, I…,” Yasha starts as Beau turns to face her, “I’m sorry if this isn’t an appropriate time. And you can say no, but I just thought I’d ask… Can I kiss you? I’d really, really like to kiss you.” Beau is stunned silent, her brain losing all ability to form words. She’s thought about this so many times, in so many different ways, since the moment she met Yasha, but she never, not once, thought this moment would come in a circumstance like this one.

All Beau can do is step forward, get so close to Yasha that their frozen breaths mingle in the air between them, become indistinguishable from each other. She holds them on the precipice, for just a moment. There’s stillness, and then a beat. And then Beau surges up to meet Yasha’s lips with her own. It’s like cresting a wave; up, then down, and then she’s just floating. She melts into Yasha until her lungs burn. She pulls back and she’s smiling and Yasha’s smiling and they kiss again.

Beau ends up back against a tree, the rough pine bark grabbing at the fabric of her coat. They make out for a little bit until an elk passes by with a loud huff, startling them apart. Beau is flushed, the cold snapping at her sensitive, overheated skin. Yasha is a _really_ good kisser, apparently. “So, uh…” Beau’s voice comes out squeaky so she clears her throat. “So that was… yeah. That was really, really nice. Feel free to do that anytime. No asking required.”

Yasha leans down to give her a quick peck. “I just might take you up on that offer.”

* * *

They make the rest of the journey back to the outpost, giddy and love-drunk, falling into each other. But the moment they pass through the gates, they’re met with sober reality. Beau feels the morning’s anxiety seep back in, stronger than before, and only worsened when they return to their tent to find it empty and no word from Essek. Supper is prepared and waiting for them again. They don’t talk about it, what Essek’s silence could mean, when they sit down together to eat. Beau feels a bit like they’re playing conversational chicken; neither woman wanting to be the one to speak the situation back into the forefront.

Yasha kisses her again, a firm yet chaste thing, before they start readying for bed. Beau thinks about telling Fjord, about what his reaction might be when he learns she and Yasha have finally kissed. She thinks about that last night in the dome, his overjoyed reaction upon learning about the date, how godsdamn _happy_ he was about him and Jester. She thinks about Fjord and Jester and everyone. If they’re all together somewhere, fighting their way back. If they’re anywhere at all, if they’re nowhere. Beau’s stomach lurches. She furiously blinks back her welling tears and climbs into bed.

It’s later, after Yasha has put out the lanterns and they’re wrapped up together underneath the heavy quilt, that Beau finally speaks up. “What if we can’t get them back?,” Beau whispers, barely audible, against Yasha’s collarbone.

Yasha continues rubbing soothing circles into Beau’s back. “We will.”

“But what if we don’t?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment, takes a long inhale, then exhale. “Then it’ll be hard. Maybe the hardest thing we’ll ever have to do. Grief is brutal at first, it’s all you can think, feel, breathe. But it becomes familiar with time. Gets kinder. Easier.” Yasha speaks with such knowledge and Beau, for the first time in days, feels something besides fear or sadness or dread: anger. How fucking unfair it is that Yasha may be forced to go through this _again_. “And,” Yasha continues, “I’ll be here, Beau. Whatever you need. I’ll be here.”

“Yasha, I…” Beau tilts her head to look at Yasha through watery eyes, “Me too. I’ll be there. For you. I promise. You don’t have to be so strong for me all the time.”

“I know. But I like to. Plus, this isn’t my first time dealing with something like… this. I know my way around.” She tries to joke, offer Beau a tight smile, but there’s a sadness in her expression, the kind she wore near perpetually back when they first met.

“Oh, Yasha,” Beau breathes out before leaning up to kiss her. They just hold each other for several long, silent moments until they’re both taken into a fretful sleep.

The next morning passes much like the previous; Beau and Yasha have breakfast together before heading to Essek’s tent for updates. The drow, again, reports no progress. A severe snowstorm prevents any excursions outside the outpost, so they’re mostly confined to spending the day their tent. Essek, thankfully, sends over a small stack of books for them to read. Beau picks up one on Kryn history while Yasha opts for fiction. It would be an ideal snowy day for Beau under any other circumstance – an afternoon spent curled up in front of a fire with a pretty girl and an interesting book – but the growing pit of anxious dread that’s taken up residence in her gut taints her every thought almost mockingly.

Another day passes much the same, and then another, and then another. Essek looks increasingly frazzled and worried each morning they check in on him. He tries to continue to project his usual confident veneer but Beau knows it wouldn’t take a genius to realize he’s running out of ideas.

Her and Yasha settle into a comfortable sort of domesticity. They explore the surrounding areas if the weather allows, stay in and read if it doesn’t. They’ve taken to after dinner walks around the outpost, just people watching, maybe catching a glimpse of a find pulled from the ruins. They decide, for the sake of healthy and sane communication, that all talk of worry and dread gets relegated to check-ins before they sleep every night. Just being with Yasha like this makes her feel so overjoyed at times, Beau finds herself on the constantly tipping seesaw of happy-guilt, happy-guilt, happy-guilt. She tries to keep the balance, keep it level, but even with all her monk training, she can’t help but tip to one side or the other.

Their routine continues for a little over a week before their dinner is interrupted by the clearing of a throat just outside their tent. “Hello? It is Essek. May I enter?”

“Yes,” Yasha says, her spoon clattering to the plate below as Beau tries to swallow an entirely too large mouthful of stew all at once, “Come in, Essek.” Essek floats in and both women stand to greet him. He hovers about near the doorway, not immediately speaking.

“Well?”, Beau says, “Did you find something?”

“I…” Essek stumbles uncharacteristically, “I apologize. I didn’t mean for you to think…” He clears his throat again. “I’ve been called back to Rosohna. I’ll make my way to the Vurmas outpost at first light, from there, once we move far enough off the coast, I will teleport back to the city. You both are more than welcome to accompany me, though I understand it may be difficult to leave, considering the circumstances.”

Beau stands there shell-shocked. “Essek, what does this mean? Are you… Are you giving up? I don’t…”

“No! No. I will continue to work from Rosohna. But… Please believe this is extremely difficult for me to admit, for a number of different reasons, but I think you should prepare yourself for the possibility that there might not be anything I can do… anything anyone can do.” A dark silence falls on the tent. Beau takes a good look at Essek for the first time since he entered. His hair is a mess and his clothes are wrinkled. She wasn’t sure it was even possible for an elf to look so exhausted.

“Do you think they’re dead?” Yasha breaks the silence, calmly, bluntly.

Essek lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” His voice comes out tiny and broken. “All of my attempts to contact them were unsuccessful, even with spells that should work between planes. But so little is understood about the magic here, even less so about planar magic. It is possible they are alive and just on a long forgotten plane of existence. And if that’s the case, I’m afraid it will have to be up to them to return. If it’s even possible.”

Every word feels like a body blow and Beau doesn’t even realize she’s staggered until she feels Yasha grab onto her elbow to steady her. She tries to speak but all that comes out is a fractured little noise, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Yasha takes in a deep breath through her nose, shakes her head once, before saying, “I think… I think we need to talk about it. Leaving.”

“Of course. Just meet at my tent just before dawn if you choose to leave with me.” He turns to leave before swiveling back to say, “Yasha. Beauregard. I am so, so sorry.” He exits swiftly, the canvas of the tent rustling in his wake.

“Beau…,” Yasha gently prods as soon as Essek has left.

Beau has turned around, has her back to Yasha, hands on hips, and head tilted to the sky, trying to stop the tears from falling. “We should…” She sniffles. “We should go with him. We’re not going to find a faster way out of here.” She doesn’t turn.

“Beau…,” Yasha tries again. She steps towards her and puts a hand on Beau’s shoulder, testing. Beau doesn’t move away.

“I know. I just… I’d rather not talk about it when I’m about to burst into tears, okay? Can we just sleep? The journey’s gonna be tough.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can sleep.”

Beau spends the night curled in on herself, turned away from Yasha. She knows the other woman isn’t finding sleep easily either, can feel the tenseness of her body. She chances one look over her shoulder and squints in the dark to see Yasha flat on her back, heels of her hands pressed so tightly against her eyes she can see the strain in her forearms. She turns back over and waits for sleep to take her.

* * *

The trip to the coast quickly becomes a blur. For a place steeped in ancient, mysterious magic, it really is quite boring. There’s snow. And trees. More snow. Occasionally a passing elk or reindeer. And lots more snow. The outpost supplied moorbounders for everyone in the party – Beau and Yasha and Essek and three accompanying guards – and the trip only takes two days on mount.

The Vurmas outpost is a sight to behold when they come up on the coastline. It’s three massive ships, all with small buildings and dwellings built atop each deck. Essek explains that they are usually attached, but can be detached for smaller trips or ease of maneuverability in the icy waters. He leads them to a ship called the _New Radiance_. Fitting, Beau thinks as she looks over at Yasha and her now nearly totally white hair.

They wait on deck while Essek goes to check in with the captain. Beau sits up on a barrel against one of the structures and watches as Yasha goes and leans over the railing, observing the water below. They’d hardly spoken on the journey; Beau knows she’s shut down, but she’s trying so hard not to shut Yasha out. “Hey,” she calls, the sea wind cutting down her voice so much she thinks Yasha might not hear her. But Yasha looks back, a soft smile from over her shoulder, almost immediately. “Come over here.” She pats the vacant barrel next to her. Yasha comes when called, sits down close enough that their thighs are touching but makes no other move towards contact. Beau grabs one of her hands, pulls it into her lap. She runs her fingers over Yasha’s large palm, tracing every callus and scar. “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick these last few days,” she says quietly, not yet looking towards Yasha.

“Don’t apologize Beau. I know you need space to process. And I know it doesn’t seem like it right now but, we’re gonna be okay.”

Beau laces their fingers together and turns to look at Yasha. The other woman stares, unwavering, into the open sea in front of them. “Do you think they’re dead?”

There’s a long pause. Yasha doesn’t move a muscle until, “No.” She looks at Beau. “But I’m not sure what would be worse: knowing they’re gone or knowing they’re out there. Somewhere. And we just can’t…” She flexes her free hand into a tight fist and releases it.

Beau just hums in response and rests her head on Yasha’s shoulder. It’s not a moment after that they notice the boat begins to move, and soon after Essek appears in front of them. “Well, we’ll be sailing for about an hour, until we can get far enough away that my magic won’t be interrupted. Then I can teleport us back to Rosohna right away, if that’s alright with you?”

“That’s fine, Essek. Thank you,” Yasha replies.

“Very well. I will come retrieve you when it is safe to depart.”

It is almost an hour on the dot when Essek returns to them. He gives them a brief warning before Beau feels the familiar drop in her stomach, and suddenly they’re standing in Rosohna, right in front of the Xhorhaus.

“I thought it’d be courteous to bring you directly to your home”, Essek says, “Though I probably should have asked. I hope this is alright.”

“It’s cool, dude,” Beau replies as she looks up at the mansion and the still glittering tree towering from its roof. “I’m gonna take like a four hour bath the second I get inside.” Beau tries to deflect from the sickening knot of anxiety formed in her gut over the prospect of returning to the home she built with her missing friends.

“Well, I will just leave you to it then. If you’d like to travel anywhere else, let me know. And if there’s any… breakthroughs or new information, I will notify you immediately.”

“Thank you again, Essek. So much. For everything,” Yasha says.

“I wish I could’ve done more,” he replies and then floats down the street in the direction of his own home.

Beau’s hand hovers over the doorknob. “Okay?,” Yasha asks as she comes up behind her. Beau nods in response. Yasha covers her hand with her own and they grip the doorknob together. They cross the threshold into the empty manor.

The Xhorhaus is quiet and dark. Beau isn’t surprised; it’s been months since they’ve been back to pay Vedalla. She wouldn’t expect the drow girl to have stayed and worked for free. Yasha moves to light a couple of the sconces on the wall.

“Okay,” Beau begins, “Should we do a sweep? Make sure we don’t have any squatters or anything? It doesn’t look like Vedalla’s been here for a while.” She notes the dust gathered on a nearby shelf.

“That’s probably a good idea, yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll take upstairs, you take downstairs?” Yasha nods in agreement and sets off, hand on the Magician’s Judge’s hilt. Beau ascends the stairs, checks the war room first, then the guest room. Both empty. She comes to Fjord’s room. She hesitates outside of the closed door, steeling herself. With an exhale, she opens the door and takes the quickest perfunctory look she can manage, and shuts the door back closed. Empty, she’s pretty sure. Beau checks the rest of the bedrooms the same way and finishes out her sweep of the floor.

She returns to the first floor to find Yasha in the kitchen, perusing the cabinets. “All good down here?,” Beau asks as she enters the room.

“Mm-hmm,” Yasha affirms, “Upstairs?”

“All good. Find anything to eat?”

“A bunch of dry goods. Not much else. I’m sure there’s some vegetables up in the garden, though, I’ll go up and check in a minute. Should be enough for tonight at least.”

“Okay. We can go shopping tomorrow.” They speak tentatively, quietly. Like you would in a mausoleum, Beau thinks. “So, uh, I wasn’t kidding about that bath. If you don’t mind handling dinner, I was just gonna…”

“Of course. Go ahead.” Yasha waves her off and Beau heads to the spa room.

She soaks in the tub for a long time; the hot water feels incredible after days of sponge baths in the freezing air of Eiselcross. Afterwards, she puts her old clothes back on, the ones they had made when they first arrived in Xhorhas. The climate here is colder than the Empire, and certainly the Coast, but it really doesn’t necessitate the heavy clothes she had been wearing.

Beau returns to the kitchen to find Yasha finishing up a large bowl of salad, a very welcome sight after nearly two weeks of only dried meat and stew. “Looks good,” Beau says, announcing her presence.

“Thanks. Can you grab some plates and silverware? I guess we can eat in the dining room.” Beau does and follows Yasha into the next room over. They sit down across from each other at one of the tables. Just the two of them, alone at the large table in the large room, exaggerates its emptiness.

“This feels weird, right? Being here?,” Yasha asks after they’ve started eating.

“Yes,” Beau agrees, “It’s like there’s ghosts of them everywhere. And it hurts. But… I don’t know what else we can do. We have nowhere else to go, really, and very little money. And honestly? I’m so tired. I kind of just want to… rest for a bit. I don’t know.”

“We can do that. Rest for a bit.” Yasha reaches across the table and squeezes Beau’s hand in hers.

* * *

They rest. The days turn to weeks and they find comfort in routine. Yasha tends to the garden while Beau reads in the study – for the first time in a very long time, just for fun. No research involved. They spar and train together, keeping their skills sharp. They walk to the market every other day, usually just for food and window shopping. Essek stops by occasionally, telling them about his research, letting them know he hasn’t given up, just as he promised.

Sometimes it’s _great_ , genuinely, and Beau feels great. But other times she’ll catch a whiff of a particular kind of tea at the market or see a little halfling family out and about together and everything just shatters again. She’ll go into the training room and punch at a dummy until her hands bleed or go out on the patio and drink too much, sometimes until she’s out cold and Yasha has to carry her back inside. Yasha feels it too, Beau knows. It’s why she’ll spend nights sleeping out on the rooftop or go for long, aimless walks through the city by herself. But she always comes back, and each time, it gets just a little bit easier.

They’ve taken up in Yasha’s room; her bed is bigger and the room has less lingering reminders of their lost friends than Beau’s. Though they share a bed, they’ve remained mostly chaste, always stopping at heavy kissing and touching over clothes. Beau is fine with it and, truthfully, it was mostly her idea in the first place, born out of her drive to keep her relationship with Yasha the one healthy thing in their extraordinarily unhealthy situation. It isn’t until one particularly rough night, Beau returns from the patio, drunk, that she falls back into old habits.

She finds Yasha sitting up in bed, reading, and lays down next to her. Beau sidles up next to her, nuzzles her neck, baiting her into closing the book. When Yasha does, she initiates a filthy kiss, coaxing Yasha to lay down with her. After a moment, she swings a leg over Yasha’s waist and straddles her. Yasha lets out a squeak of surprise but makes no move to halt her, just continues their deep kiss. Beau starts undulating her hips against the body beneath her, sending a message of clear intent. She pulls back, feeling the cool air sting her kiss swollen lips as she sits up straight, and slides her hands up her torso to begin pulling off her breast band. She peels it off just far enough to expose the undersides of her breasts before Yasha’s hands come up to stop her progress.

Yasha grips the fabric and pulls it back down, covering Beau up again. “Beau… I don’t think this is a good idea.” She takes Beau’s hands in her own and brings them down onto the mattress next to them. “I want this. You. So badly. But I don’t want our first time together to be like this, incited by grief.”

Beau scurries off of her and goes to stand on the floor by the bed. “Right. Yeah,” she says, rubbing her temples and pacing a bit, “Really stupid idea. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Beau. Just come lay down again. It’s late. We can talk about it in the morning.”

Beau thinks for a moment and looks down at Yasha beckoning her back to bed, her hair still mussed and cheeks still flushed. “I’m… actually gonna sleep in my room tonight. I’m, uh, still kind of keyed up, and getting back into bed with you looking like that is not going to help matters.” It’s a half-truth; her body still burns for Yasha, that is for certain, but the rejection stung more than she should’ve let it.

“Okay,” Yasha acquiesces, “You can come back anytime if you want.”

Beau leans down to plant a quick kiss on her lips, “Night.”

“Goodnight.”

Much later, alone in her own bed, Beau still hasn’t fallen asleep. She thinks about going back to Yasha as she twists and turns, but decides against it; she’s sure Yasha is already deep in a slumber she’d be loathe to disturb. She lays flat on her back and stares at the ceiling. Her body is still thrumming, low in her belly and between her legs. She trails a hand down to play along the waistband of her pants. Beau hasn’t gotten off since their last night in Caleb’s tower. It’s been weeks now; probably the longest she’s gone since she started puberty, Beau thinks.

She slips her hand past her waistband and finds herself; she’s hot and still a little wet. Beau sighs and closes her eyes as she begins to stroke herself, first up and down and then in slow circles. She floats away into fantasy, lets herself sink into a recent favorite: she’s in the air, naked, flying with Yasha, legs wrapped around the other woman’s hips as one of her strong arms holds her tight and secure and the other works diligently between her legs.

She’s getting there fast as she works herself, pleasure bubbling up rapidly. She turns her head on one side of the pillow and then the other, and opens her eyes. Jester’s bed sits there in the dark, empty, sheets still crumpled from the last time Jester awoke there. Beau squeezes her eyes back shut as quickly as she can, tries to go back to her fantasy, but the damage is done. Her pleasure evaporates as she feels the now all too familiar welling of tears in her eyes.

She sits up and slides out of bed. Beau walks over to the vacant bed, almost reluctant to touch at first, as if disturbing one single crease would erase a part of Jester that is left. She climbs in eventually, slips under the blankets and presses her face into the pillow, inhaling. It still smells of the oil Jester uses on her horns to keep them smooth. Beau cries. She cries until she falls asleep and Jester’s pillow is wet with her tears.

Beau sleeps in late, much later than she has in a long time. She’s got a headache and a wicked case of dry mouth, but it’s a tolerable hangover, all things considered. She pads out of her bedroom, bleary eyed, and heads to the kitchen in search of water. She gulps down half the pitcher before deciding she’d better go apologize properly to Yasha for her previous night’s behavior. The other woman’s bedroom door was closed and there was no sign of her on the first floor, so Beau figures she must be in the garden, but when she heads to the roof to check, Yasha isn’t there either.

So she returns to the second floor and gently cracks open the door to Yasha’s room. “Yash… you in here?” There’s no immediate response so Beau steps into the room. There she sees Yasha on her knees in front of the wildflower mural, crying softly as she runs her fingers over the brushstrokes. “Oh, Yasha,” Beau laments and hurries over to kneel beside her. She places a tentative hand on Yasha’s shoulder and the other woman leans into it.

“I’m sorry,” Yasha tells her through sniffles, “It just feels so _heavy_ sometimes you know? Argh…” She swipes at her stubborn tears. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“It’s okay, Yasha.” Beau wraps an arm around her, pulls her in close. “Remember back at the outpost? When I promised I’d be there for you too? Well, this is that part. Take however long you need. I’m not going anywhere.” Yasha’s body slumps with the permission, leaning fully into Beau. And Beau just holds her tighter, keeps her steady through it all.

* * *

A few more weeks pass, and suddenly it’s months they’ve spent in Rosohna. They keep up their routine, and even begin hosting occasional dinners with Essek. He never outright says it, but they can tell he’s very grateful for the company, though they all wish it could be a bit _more_ company. Essek never abandons his research, but it’s pretty clear he’s hit an impasse that might not be possible to cross. Beau feels settled in this little life here she’s made with Yasha, as settled as she could be, but there’s been one thing on her mind, a growing guilt demanding more and more of her attention.

She finally decides to bring it up to Yasha over dinner one night. Yasha’s been learning to cook, and is getting pretty damn good at it, if you ask Beau. Tonight they’re sharing a delicately roasted cut of lamb with some cooked root veggies native to Xhorhas. They’re about halfway through when Beau speaks up. “I’ve been thinking…” She pauses and looks at Yasha, waits for her to return the eye contact. “I think… I think we need to tell their families. About what happened. It’s kind of awful that we waited this long, actually.”

Yasha puts her cutlery down on her plate, rests her chin on her hand. “I’ve thought about that, too. I just… _really_ don’t want to.”

“You and me both. But it’s not fair to them. They have a right to know.”

“You’re right,” Yasha sighs and picks up her fork again, pushes a stray veggie around her plate, “Do you have an idea? Of where to start, I mean?”

“Yes and no. Obviously it would be super fucked up to just have Essek message. So we’d need to do it in person.”

Yasha nods. “Essek would take us, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Marion and Yeza will be easy -- well, not easy. Just, they’re both in Nicodranas. The problem is that we don’t know exactly where Caduceus’ family is. So I was thinking we could go to Uthodurn and find Reani. She’ll know where they are.”

“Okay. And then what? Straight to Nicodranas?”

“Actually… I was thinking we could do it the old fashioned way? Have Essek drop us off somewhere near the Ashguard Garrison and we go from there? Honestly, I miss traveling, and this way I can stop by the Cobalt Soul in Zadash. Our gold is running pretty thin and I’m sure they owe me shitton in back pay.”

Yasha seems surprised, but a good surprised. “Yes. Yeah. That sounds good. I miss being on the road, too. Well, Essek is coming by tomorrow. We can talk to him about it then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s great.”

They make the arrangements with Essek the following night and prepare to head to Uthodurn in the morning. They pack up pretty much everything they’d arrived with, unsure of when they’ll be back in Rosohna. Beau takes the little vault of amber out from where she’d stashed it away in her nightstand and tucks it safely in her coat’s inside pocket. When they tuck into bed together, Beau tightly into Yasha’s side, Beau realizes there is something she should probably tell Yasha about before they arrive in Uthodurn.

“So… Reani…,” Beau starts. Yasha hums and acknowledgment, but keeps her eyes closed. “She kind had a little bit of a crush. On me. And I, um, slept with her. I just figured you should know. You know, so things will be less awkward.”

Yasha opens her eyes. “Okay.” Closes them again.

“Okay?” Beau isn’t sure whether to be offended or not. She expected at least a _little_ jealousy.

Yasha looks at her. “Yes, okay. I know you’ve been with other women, Beau. It’s not a big deal to me unless it’ll come between us.”

“It won’t.”

“Good. Then let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

* * *

Essek takes Beau and Yasha to Uthodurn about halfway through the morning. He agrees to stay in the city until they’re ready to leave, citing work he could do at the Vellum Steeple Archive. They’re not even sure Reani will be in the city at all, but they decide to begin their search where the Nein first met her – The Anvil of Smeltborne. Umagorn is there, hammering away at a piece of metal. Fortuitously, he tells them that Reani is indeed in the city. They thank him and head to where Beau remembers Reani’s home to be, hoping she’s there.

When they arrive at the little abode, their knocks are met with silence. “I guess we should just wait here?,” Yasha suggests.

“Yeah,” Beau agrees. She’s both disappointed and relieved that Reani isn’t home; she’s been patently avoiding imagining the druid’s reaction when she receives the dark news her and Yasha are about to deliver. They wait for about an hour, middling around the front door to Reani’s home.

“Ohmygosh! Beau!” They hear a voice call excitedly from a ways down the street. Reani isn’t hard to miss, so Beau quickly spots her running towards them, her glowing halo marking her progress. She flings her arms around Beau in a tight hug. “Why didn’t you guys tell me you were coming?”

“Hi, Reani,” Beau says, a little choked by Reani’s ongoing hug. She sends an apologetic look towards Yasha for the enduring embrace that shows no sign of stopping.

Yasha clears her throat. “Hello.”

Reani releases Beau immediately. “Oh! You must be Yasha!” Reani throws herself around Yasha with no hesitation. Yasha lets out a surprised little huff but cautiously returns the hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you!” Reani pulls back and looks around. “Where’s everybody else? I’m dying to see Jester! And Nott! And Caduceus! And Mr. Caleb! And Fjord! Everybody, really! Are they at the bakery or something?”

Beau feels sick already. “Uh, Reani? We, um, actually came here to tell you something. I think we’d better go inside, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh. Of course, yeah.” She unlocks the door and ushers them inside.

Reani breaks down when they tell her. Harsh, broken sobs pour from her and Beau is almost jealous; jealous at how easy it is for her to give in, to let grief wash through her so freely and without a fight. Reani holds onto one of each of their hands and though it takes hours, they sit with her until she calms.

Reani insists on cooking dinner and offers them a place to stay for the evening. When they sit down to eat around the little dining table, Yasha asks, “Reani, we actually came here to ask you for your help.”

“Anything,” Reani replies.

“Could you tell us where the Clay family is? We’re trying to let the families know…,” Yasha trails off.

“Let me do it.”

“What?,” Beau asks.

“Let me tell them. Let me do this for you. Take some of the burden. Please,” Reani looks back and forth between them. “I know where they are. We’ve become pretty close since you asked me to escort them home. And I have a new spell that can get me there really quickly. Please, Beau. Yasha. Let me help.”

Beau looks at Yasha, who looks right back at her, gives her a deferential nod. She thinks for a moment. The Clays only met her and Yasha once, so it may be easier to hear this kind of news from someone they’re closer to. Like Reani. “Okay,” Beau says and exhales.

“Thank you. I’ll leave straight away tomorrow.”

“Thank _you_ , Reani. This is more than we could ever ask,” says Yasha.

“You didn’t ask. I offered.” Reani flashes them a sad and brilliant smile.

Later on, after Yasha has excused herself to the privy, Reani slides over close to Beau, close enough that they’re thighs are touching. Beau stiffens. “Reani… um.” She scoots away every so slightly. “Yasha and I are… We’re… Well, we’re a ‘we’.”

“Oh!,” Reani exclaims and scoots back to her original spot, “I’m _so_ sorry, Beau! I should’ve asked. Wow, though! You guys are cute together.”

Beau blushes. “No hard feelings, though, right?”

“None at all! Promise.”

“Great. Because you’re a great friend, Reani, seriously. I wouldn’t want to lose that.”

“Aww, Beau!” She gives Beau a playful punch on the shoulder, before lowering her voice in a conspiratorial whisper, “So you got a thing for angels or what?”

“Ugh,” Beau groans and buries her head in her hands.

They spend the rest of the evening with a bottle of wine, regaling each other with tales of the past months, trying to focus on the good things. They’re about to pack it in for the night when Reani says, slightly tipsy, “Yasha! You cannot go to sleep without showing me those wings!”

“Oh, well, uh. I don’t think I can bring them out in here. They’re too big.”

“That is so _cool_. Isn’t that so cool?” Reani leans her head on Beau’s shoulder as they both look at Yasha.

“It’s pretty fucking cool,” Beau agrees.

“Okay! Let’s go outside then! I gotta see them.” Reani pops up, and drags Yasha out with her into the street. Beau grabs the bottle and follows, chuckling to herself. Luckily, there’s no one around when they exit the house and Reani pushes Yasha a little bit away from her. “Do it!” She’s practically jumping up and down with excitement.

“Alright,” Yasha relents and the dark street becomes illuminated in a celestial glow. The wings behind Yasha’s back remain incorporeal for a moment and then they’re full-bodied, feathered, and radiating heavenly light. She beats them once, twice, and dust and leaves kick up around them.

Reani gapes at her for a minute before Yasha takes off in a jog. She scoops Reani into her arms and flies straight up. Reani lets out a high pitched scream of joy that trails off the further they get into the sky. Beau, frankly, laughs her ass off. She watches the two aasimar as they hover; she’s not wearing her goggles so she can really only make out a set of wings and a halo. Yasha descends after a minute and places a breathless Reani back on her feet.

“Pretty dope right?,” she asks Reani, who can only nod frantically in response.

Reani, as promised, leaves first thing in the morning. There’s more tears and more hugs before she goes off to find the nearest large tree. Druid shit, Beau figures. They spend the rest of the morning stocking up on supplies for the road ahead, before heading to the Archive to find Essek. He offers, again, to take them directly to Nicodranas, but they refuse, insisting on the Xhorhassian-Empire border. They arrive at the Ashguard Garrison by noon.


	2. Chapter 2

Beau and Yasha return to Empire soil with nothing but the packs on their backs. They set off west towards Zadash. Beau calculates it should take them about a week to get there, if the keep a nice pace and get lucky with the weather. They’re good together on the road, Beau realizes quickly. She’s hasn’t traveled with Yasha like this – bare bones, no magic – very many times before. Their early days together were spotted with Yasha’s absences and by the time she was around more fully, the group had managed more sophisticated means of transportation.

Yasha is in her element like this. She’s a great hunter; she makes sure her and Beau have fresh meat to eat practically every night. She can start a fire with just about anything. She can tell time with clock tower accuracy just by looking at the sun. None of this is surprising for Beau to learn, it’s just… very attractive. And yeah, maybe, she’s a little pent-up – her and Yasha still haven’t been intimate yet – but she struggles to think of something hotter than watching Yasha carefully sharpen a stick into a makeshift spear as they walk and then use it to kill their eventual dinner.

It turns out to be an easy week on the road in the end. They arrive at the gates of Zadash at sunset. They debate a little bit about where to stay for the night. Beau wins out, and leads them to the Pillow Trove, assuring Yasha that the money will be less of an issue once she stops by the Cobalt Soul. They have dinner sent to their room and fall asleep quickly on the heavenly soft bed.

Beau spends the next morning getting cleaned up and presentable. She had her robes sent out for washing the night before; she slips into her freshly laundered clothes after a bath. She lets Yasha give her a quick shave, sorting out her fuzzy undercut. She sits still in the chair as Yasha pulls the straight razor against her head.

“You seem nervous,” Yasha states plainly as she shaves.

“What? No? No. Pshhh. I’m fine.” Beau grimaces. Not smooth.

“You’re just going to ask for they pay you’re owed, right? I don’t see anything to be worried about.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just gonna be weird, seeing everyone, after all that’s happened, I guess.” She feels bad about lying to Yasha, but she’s made up her mind and didn't want to give Yasha the chance to talk her out of it.

“Hmmm,” Yasha hums an agreement, “You’ll be fine.” She finishes the shave and plants a kiss firmly on Beau’s lips. “So I was gonna go for a walk while you’re gone. Maybe pick up a new book or two.”

“Oh? Gonna head over to Chastity’s Nook are you? Get some smut?” Beau stands and pulls Yasha’s hips against hers as she flirts. “Pick something good, yeah? I might want to read it after.”

Yasha rolls her eyes and gives Beau a swat on the ass. “How about I read it to you?,” she teases back, low in Beau’s ear, before sauntering out the door.

Beau just stands there. Swallows. Then goes back to getting ready for the day.

* * *

Beau jogs up the steps to the Valley Archive. She’s met with the oh so familiar smell of old parchment and bindings when she enters. It calms her nerves a bit, puts her at ease. She walks up to the archivist working at the front desk. “Zeenoth around?”

The archivist quirks a brow. “And who, might I ask, is asking?”

Beau sighs. Still gets no damn respect around here. “Expositor Beauregard Lionett.”

The archivist straightens up right away. “Uh, yes. He is in. My apologies. I’ll show you to him.”

“No need. I know my way around.” She dismisses the now flustered archivist and makes her way towards Zeenoth’s chambers. She comes to a closed door and gives it two heavy raps, “Knock, knock. Zeenoth? It’s Beauregard.”

She hears a shuffle of papers and the scrape of a chair across the floor. The door opens. “Expositor Beauregard. Come in. I wasn’t expecting you.” Beau follows him in, takes a seat in the chair facing his desk. Zeenoth returns to his seat and straightens the messed papers on the desktop. “So what is the nature of this visit?”

“Oh, I was just wondering… I kind of haven’t gotten paid, like, ever, since I became an expositor. So I just thought maybe I could, you know, _get_ paid.”

“Certainly. I wasn’t aware that you hadn’t, though you are hard to track down at times. I will arrange that right away.” Zeenoth writes something down on a scrap of parchment and excuses himself from the room. He returns after a few quick moments and sits down again.

“Is that it? A simple paycheck matter?”

“Actually…” Beau takes a breath. “I wanted to know if it would be possible to take a step back from expositor duties. Just for a little while.”

Zeenoth looks flabbergasted. “I… It’s _possible_ , certainly, but, Beauregard, you are one of our most valuable assets. Losing you, even temporarily, would be a great loss to the organization.”

“Thank you, Zeenoth, but I just…”

“Have you been compromised in any way? Is it something with your group? You are aware, Beauregard, that we can help with these kinds of matters – ”

“They’re gone, Zeenoth.” Beau interrupts him, perhaps a bit too loudly.

“Pardon?”

“My group. They’re gone. All of them. Except for me and one other. I just can’t…” She takes a steeling breath. She is _not_ going to cry in front of fucking Zeenoth. “I can’t really handle anything extra right now.”

Zeenoth is quiet for a long moment. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Beauregard.” He sits back and straightens his robes. “I will speak to Expositor Dairon and we will have your duties scaled back.”

“Is Dairon here?” Beau is almost afraid to ask, not sure if seeing her mentor would her feel better or worse.

“No. Not at the moment. Expositor Dairon is back in Xhorhas.”

“Oh. Okay, then. I’ll just… be going.” She stands up and makes a move towards the door.

“Beauregard? I know this request may lack tact, but if you could write a report about what happened, it would provide valuable information.”

She glares. “Fuck you, Zeenoth.” Beau slams the door behind her.

She finds her way to an administration room where a clerk is sorting out her pay. It turns out to be a fairly sizable sum, enough to sustain her and Yasha pretty comfortably for months.

Despite the sour ending to her conversation with Zeenoth, Beau feels lighter the moment she steps back on the street. She’d been privately worrying about her expositor duties for weeks, and to have them lifted relieves a burden she hadn’t realized was quite so heavy. She buys a flower for Yasha from a vendor on the street, a robust purple carnation, and heads back to the Pillow Trove.

Yasha’s already returned when Beau opens the door to their room, reclining on the bed reading a new book (not smut, Beau notes with disappointment). Beau strides over to the bed and kisses her, then hands her the flower. Yasha laughs. “It went well, I take it?”

“Yeah. Great. Got a whole bunch of coin.” She takes out the purse and jingles it, “Gonna last us months.”

“That’s amazing, Beau.”

“It is, isn’t it? We should go out to eat tonight, celebrate.”

“Like a date?,” Yasha asks with mirth in her eyes.

“Yes, like a date.”

* * *

It’s the best night they’ve had since everything happened. The spend the evening in the Pentamarket, sampling every kind of food from any cart that catches their eye. They stay wrapped up in each other, always touching, whether it’s clasped hands or an arm around a shoulder or just the brushing of knuckles together. Yasha looks so beautiful, happy, and doused in the plentiful lantern light, Beau loses her breath every time she looks at her.

They find themselves huddled close on a bench off one of the less busy streets, Beau curled into Yasha’s side. It’s then that Beau decides she can’t wait any longer. She trails a thumb up to trace Yasha’s lip and then down to her tattoo. “I want to be with you tonight,” she whispers.

She feels Yasha’s breath catch. “You sure?”

Beau nods. “You?”

“Yeah.” Yasha breaks into a full face grin as she pulls them to stand. They practically run back to the Pillow Trove, laughing and giggling the whole way.

Beau pounces on Yasha the second the she shuts the door behind them; she throws her arms around her neck and stands up on her tip toes to give her a deep kiss. That kiss quickly turns into a dirty makeout session, both sets of hands wandering over every inch of body. One of Yasha’s hands catches under the hem of Beau’s top. “Yeah?,” she asks as she moves to remove it.

Beau nods frantically and raises her arms, letting Yasha pull the garment off her. They work at undressing each other – Yasha doing most of the heavy lifting with her own clothes, because Beau isn’t sure she’d be able to figure out all those straps and buckles even if she wasn’t drunk with arousal – until they’re both naked.

They both take a moment to just look in earnest, in a way they’d never allowed themselves before. Beau drinks the sight of Yasha in, eyes roam over her well-defined muscles, her breasts, her belly, the patch of stark white hair atop her mound and the tiny bit of visible pink just below it. She can’t wait a second longer to have Yasha, so she lets herself fall back on the bed, beckoning Yasha to follow.

Yasha crawls over her and kisses Beau again, guides her down against the pillows so that Beau’s on her back. Their bare bodies meet for the first time and Beau shudders at the contact, arches up into Yasha. They continue kissing for long moments, until the heat becomes too much to bear and Beau can’t help but grind her hips upwards, painting Yasha’s abdominal muscles in slick. “Please,” she whines into the kiss.

Yasha pulls back. “How do you want it?” Beau whines again, grabs Yasha’s hand and brings it down between her own legs. Yasha inhales sharply at the first feeling of Beau’s sex beneath her fingertips. She plays Beau like her harp strings, finds all of the right patterns and rhythms. Beau keens and runs her hands along Yasha’s broad back, pulls her closer.

When Yasha finally presses her fingers inside, first one, testing, and then two, it sends Beau’s hands scrabbling against the bed sheets, tears a loud moan from her throat. She _really_ hopes they don’t have neighbors on the other side of the wall. It’s never been like this for Beau. Pleasure, heat, lust? Familiar, and all here in abundance. But there’s something else here, too; something settled and strong that renders her unable to tear her eyes away from Yasha’s as they move together.

“Yasha… I’m gonna…,” Beau warns. In response, Yasha just rocks into her harder, circles her thumb faster. Beau shatters, pulses around Yasha’s fingers, her vision whiting out with pleasure. She comes to and Yasha is still inside her, free hand smoothing stubborn flyaways at her temple. Beau leans up to kiss her sweetly.

“Good?,” Yasha asks.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Beau swats Yasha’s ass with both hands, squeezes it. She earns a nipping little kiss and throaty laugh from Yasha in response. “You want a turn, or…?”, Beau asks teasingly as she snakes one of her hands around to the inside of Yasha’s thigh, fingertips just skimming the beginnings of damp skin.

Yasha groans. “Yes… It’s not gonna take much, though, sorry.”

Beau flips them, straddles Yasha’s waist. “Who says we’re stopping at one?,” she says impishly and begins kissing her way down Yasha’s chest.

* * *

Beau stuffs a pillow over her head, trying in vain to keep the sunlight pouring through their window off of her. She figures it at least mid-morning. She and Yasha didn’t exactly get a restful night’s sleep. She turns over, finding soreness in all the right places; she’s gonna feel Yasha every time she sits down for the next day or two. She’s just grateful they’re not traveling on horseback. Beau turns over and looks at her new lover still sleeping peacefully beside her, on her belly, face pressed into the pillow. She reaches over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and the little movement rouses Yasha.

“Mmmm. Morning.” Yasha’s voice is gravelly with sleep and she smiles around every word.

“Very good morning.” Beau scoots closer, nudges Yasha onto her back so she can cling to her side. Yasha pulls her in almost instinctively, hands rubbing her naked back. They lay there for a long while, enjoying the warmth from their bodies and from the sun spilling in the window. It’s a perfect moment and Beau only hopes she isn’t about to make it less perfect. “Yasha? I gotta tell you something.”

“What is it, Beau?,” Yasha says, unmoving and eyes still closed.

“Yesterday… At the Cobalt Soul. I didn’t just ask for my back pay. I, uh, requested to take a step back from expositor duties. And they agreed.”

Yasha stiffens. “What?”

“I just… don’t think I can handle it right now, you know? And I know I’d make a shitty expositor when I’m like this anyway.” Yasha is quiet for a long moment and Beau isn’t sure how to read it. “Are you mad?”

Yasha exhales. “I’m not mad.” Her voice is soft and Beau believes her. “I’m just a little upset you didn’t say anything before. About how you were feeling about it.”

“I know. I should’ve. I just didn’t want to bother you with it or make you angry or anything.”

“I’d never get angry. It’s my job to support you with things like this, not criticize you. Just talk to me first next time, yeah?”

“Okay. Yeah.”

Yasha just pulls her in closer in response and they let sleep take them for a little while longer.

* * *

They spend a couple more nights in Zadash, before setting off south on the Amber Road. It’s a retracing of sorts, their first journey together with the Nein, a journey which Yasha was largely absent for. Beau spends the trip recounting tales of the group at each landmark. Yasha greatly enjoys them all, even the ones Beau might consider banal, and especially the ones involving Molly. It’s the first time she’s been able to talk about their friends without that knot of grief twisting around in her stomach.

Another week on the road and they stop by Trostenwald. They book a stay at they Nestled Nook, just for nostalgia’s sake. When they sit down at the little table in the tavern room for breakfast – the same one they’d all met at so many months ago – Beau takes out her knife, carves a little ‘M9’ into the surface. Yorda recognizes them, asks after their companions. She gives them a pitcher of their finest trost on the house after they tell her the news.

From there, it’s only a few days to the Wuyun Gates, and then only another couple to Nicodranas. The city skyline is as beautiful as ever, a sparkling gem against the great Lucidian Ocean, but Beau feels only a wave of dread crash down upon her when they first lay eyes on it.

The decide on going to the Brenattos first; it’s technically closer and, though they don’t say it out loud, know it will be easier than informing Marion. When they knock on the halfling-sized door and Yeza answers, Beau can tell by his face that he immediately knows. A husband must always know, she figures, and wonders if she’d know, if she was in his place and it was Yasha who’d gone.

Yasha offers to take Luc to the beach while Beau steps inside with Yeza. “What happened?,” he asks, his shaking hands gripping the back of a chair so tightly she can see the whites of every knuckle.

“It… uh…” Beau takes a quick exhale from her mouth. “The place we were, it was really dangerous. There was ancient, powerful magic. It messed with spells and stuff. I don’t know exactly how, I’m not a caster. But we got into this fight,” She watches as Yeza removes his glasses, rubbing at the already flowing tears, “Jester cast this spell. It went wrong. Everyone disappeared. Except me and Yasha. She tackled me off a cliff at the last moment. We tried to get them back, but nothing worked. I don’t know if they’re dead or somewhere else or what. They’re just… gone.” Beau is shaking too, by the end of it, and she looks pointedly at the floor, unable to watch as Yeza breaks.

“Not again… Veth… no,” is all Yeza says before slumps onto the floor. Beau thinks for a moment that he’s fainted, but, cruelly, he’s awake, fully conscious as her props himself up against the kitchen cabinet. Beau sits down next to him, the top of her head almost reaching the half-sized countertop, and they wait in total silence until Yasha returns an hour or so later with Luc.

Yeza recomposes himself enough and lets Beau and Yasha leave and Beau is so thankful for it. She doesn’t think she’d be able to take watching a child react to the loss of his mother today, on top of everything else. Yasha pulls her close as they make the short walk up to the Lavish Chateau. She asks if Beau wants to wait a bit before going in, but she refuses, wants to rip the bandage off all at once.

Bluud sends a chamber maid upstairs to notify Marion of their arrival and they’re escorted up by the same maid after a minute or two. They step into the ornate bedchamber to find Marion in her usual silk robe and sipping a glass of champagne.

“Beauregard and Yasha! How wonderful that you’ve arrived today! I’m performing a new set tonight that will sure be the talk of Nicodranas by morning. If only my little sapphire were here to see it! Such a shame that she’s apparently too busy to watch her momma perform!,” Marion plays up the joke, obviously expecting Jester to pop out and ‘surprise’ her. She remains unaware that the jest falls empty; a bit played with a ghost.

Beau tries to speak but all that falls from her mouth is a broken little sound. She tries again, but to no avail. Yasha places a hand on the small of her back.

“Beauregard, are you alright?,” Marion asks, concern now coloring her features.

Yasha steps forward. “Marion, you should sit down…” Yasha’s voice is quiet and shaking.

“Wha- What do you mean? What is going on?” Marion steps quickly towards Yasha, grabs her forearm. “Where is Jester? Where is my baby?”

There’s tears in Yasha’s eyes, just now threatening to fall. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

There’s a shatter of glass when the champagne flute hits the ground and what follows is the worst sound Beau has ever heard in her life. A primal wail of pure agony rips from Marion’s throat as she drops to her knees and _sobs_. Beau feels dizzy, stumbles backwards and uses her hand to brace herself on the doorknob. Yasha helps Marion up and away from the broken glass, helps her over to the large canopied bed. Yasha sits with her and nods towards, Beau, a silent _I got this_. Beau slips out into the hallway, and softly shuts the door behind her, slumping against it.

The Ruby of the Sea does not sing that night.

Beau enters the room that had been provided for them by concierge. She drops her hands to her knees in the dark room, tries to control her breathing, and then stumbles over to the chamber pot and vomits her guts out. She waits for Yasha, paces back and forth, but the room keeps feeling smaller and smaller, so she leaves, exits the Chateau all together.

She ends up on the beach and she runs. She runs as fast and as far as she can. She runs until her lungs are burning white hot with every breath and her boots are so filled with sand she can no longer feel their bottoms. Beau comes to a skittering stop, rolls down onto the sand. She touches her face; her tears have dried with grains of sand, giving her a rough stubble. She stands up and looks out onto the ocean and then she walks. She walks into the water until it’s past her knees, then hips, then ribs and she’s having to duck her head under waves. She makes it to shoulder height before she stops. Screams at the top of her lungs. There is no answer, just the distant sound of waves meeting shore.

Beau floats for a while before dragging herself in with the tide. Her clothes are soaking and heavy and become covered in sand immediately. Her hair’s a matted mess over her forehead so she tries to at least move it away from her eyes. She trudges back to the Chateau, ignoring every stare from the odd passerby.

Beau stomps into the Chateau lobby and heads straight for the stairs. As she does she notices, out of the corner of her eye, Bluud, sitting at a table by himself, clutching a tiny children’s toy to his huge chest; a worn blue unicorn plush.

Yasha’s curled up in bed when Beau returns, fully clothed and on top of the covers. The dark kohl she wears around her eyes is smudged down to her jawline in places. She merely quirks and eyebrow at Beau when she sees her return, not dripping but still visibly wet.

Beau starts peeling off her wet clothes, throwing them into a soggy pile by the door. “Went for a swim,” she says flatly as she reaches her smallclothes, then pulls those off too.

“Did it help?,” Yasha asks as Beau, naked, slides under the covers next to her.

“I don’t know.”

They fall asleep early, without dinner or speaking another word to each other.

* * *

Marion lets them stay as long as they need, and Beau and Yasha accept her hospitality. Weeks go by and then months, and it’s like when they were back at the Xhorhaus or the little tent at the Eiselcross outpost; they settle, find comfort in a routine. They both love Nicodranas and Nicodranas treats them well; it’s a comfortable life at the Lavish Chateau.

They grow closer to Marion. The Ruby takes no clients and performs no shows for months after receiving the grievous news and Beau and Yasha provide comforting company. The Gentleman – _Bab_ _e_ _non_ , as he quickly becomes known around the Chateau – arrives soon after Marion sends for him and his visits become more and more frequent after that. Yasha and Beau gleefully assist Marion in the rekindling of her romance with Babenon. She performs her first show back with him proudly sitting in the front row. Jester would be so happy, Beau thinks, if she knew that she actually did end up bringing her parents back together, in a roundabout way.

Beau and Yasha make their own milestones, too, of course. It’s a rainy afternoon, the last trails of distant thunder rumble outside their window as the day’s storm heads back out to sea. They had spent the early morning on the beach. Yasha loves to watch the ocean just before a storm, to stand in awe as it swells in a foamy, angry warning. They had run back to the Chateau when they felt the first raindrops fall, and then fell back into bed together; a few hours of impromptu passion.

Beau, still naked, sits up against the headboard while Yasha lay dozing against her, head in her lap. Beau strokes her hair as she looks down at the woman. Sometimes it is subtle, the celestial blood that runs in Yasha’s veins. Sometimes you can’t even tell it’s there. Other times, like now, as the odd flash of lightning illuminates her resting features, it is all-consuming, hypnotic; otherworldly beauty, heaven born of earth. Sometimes it is obvious: she is divinity and Beau is in love.

“I love you.” Beau’s words are gentle as the trailing rivulets of rain against their window; so quiet she’s not sure Yasha’s heard her.

But Yasha perks her head up, just looks at Beau for a moment. “Really?” The question comes out small with disbelief.

“Yes,” Beau says, firm and confident, “I love you, Yasha.”

Yasha smiles, broad and full. _Divine_ , Beau thinks. “I love you, too.”

* * *

A year passes in Nicodranas quicker than either Yasha or Beau realize. Babenon eventually moves into the Chateau full time and starts a more legitimate business in the city, at Marion’s urging. Both Beau and Yasha help out where they can for both Marion and Babenon. Sometimes Yasha helps Bluud run security at night, sometimes Beau will head out into the city to run errands for Babenon when he’s too busy. It’s a quiet life, a good life, but sometimes they grow restless. They talk of going back to Rosohna or maybe Zadash or another city with a Cobalt Soul archive, but no plan ever fully materializes.

It’s a beautiful afternoon in The Open Quay district, where Beau and Yasha return from dropping off some paperwork at a vendor at the behest of Babenon. They take the long way back, circling all the way around the Tidepeak Tower before heading towards the Opal Archways. They walk quietly and comfortably, hand in hand, until Beau hears her name called from somewhere in the street behind them.

“Beauregard? Beauregard, is that you?” Beau and Yasha turn around and scan the area. Beau then sees a woman coming towards them, long blonde hair tied in a braid, and a flowing blue dress.

“Allura? Hi,” Beau says as Allura Vysoren approaches, “You remember Yasha?”

“Of course, yes. Glad to see you’re both well,” she glances down at their joined hands, “Or perhaps more than well? Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Yasha says genuinely.

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard from any of you Mighty Nein. I dare say I do actually miss being awoken by the sound of Jester’s voice at all hours of the night, just a bit. I take it things have been going well, then?”

Beau and Yasha share a look. It’s been a long time since they’ve had to break the news to someone and Beau feels that old tide of dread rise up, sickening as ever.

“Well, uh, maybe we should find somewhere to sit down and talk,” Yasha suggests.

They end up on a bench in a nearby park where they recount the events of Eiselcross to Allura. She listens intently and with knowing empathy. When they finish the tale, Allura is quiet for a long moment, and then, curiously, the first question she asks is about the threshold crests.

“The crests, what happened to them? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I guess the one the bad guys had is gone to wherever they went,” Beau starts and calculates whether to even tell Allura about the next part. She decides the risk is worth it, that Allura is trustworthy enough. “We actually, um, still have the second one. It’s in a magical vault that neither of us can open. We just thought we’d better hold onto it, for safekeeping.”

“That is… oh my.” Allura looks a bit frazzled upon hearing that revelation. “That was definitely the right choice, first of all. These artifacts are some of the most powerful in all of the known world. And to find one so large and intact… it’s nearly unheard of.” Beau internally winces a bit at that, and decides it’s probably better to _not_ tell Allura that she’s been keeping this insanely powerful and dangerous magical artifact in a drawer buried underneath her underwear. “Forgive me if this is out of line, but if you were to turn it over to the Arcana Pansophical, it would be in the safest place possible. And you would be rewarded more than handsomely for it, as well.”

“Wow, that’s… I think we’d have to talk about it,” Beau says looking over to Yasha, who nods in agreement.

“Of course. Completely understandable. I’ll be in Nicodranas for the next few days, staying at the tower. If you decide in favor, just come find me. I will take us to Emon where we will settle your reward.”

“Allura?,” Yasha speaks up, “If we give this to you, do you think it could… Do you think you could find a way to bring our friends back?”

Allura smiles, a little sadly. “I don’t know. But I do know the most brilliant magical minds will be studying this artifact, and if there is any way, they will figure it out.”

“Okay. We will talk about it and get back to you.”

Allura stands, smooths out her dress. “Well, I do have business to attend to this afternoon, so if you would excuse me, I really must be going.”

“It was great to see you, Allura,” Beau says.

“You as well. And I’m sorry. I truly am.”

Beau thanks her again and they watch Allura walk off in the direction of the tower.

They speak about Allura’s proposition later, as they’re readying for bed. Yasha lounges in the large tub as Beau stands in front of the nearby mirror, undoing her braids.

“So, do you think we should give it to her? The crest?,” Yasha calls from her spot in the bath.

Beau looks at her through the mirror. “It sounds like an amazing deal, honestly. The crest really isn’t safe with us here. We are kind of running out of money and I’m starting feel bad about mooching off of Marion so much, especially now that Babenon’s here. Kind of feels like we’re intruding on their space, you know?” She sees Yasha nod through the mirror. “And I know we’ve both kind of been feeling restless. So maybe… I don’t know. Another continent could be fun for a while.” She turns to look at Yasha.

“Yeah?” Yasha looks happy, excited.

“Yeah.” Beau feels her own excited butterflies bubble up in the pit of her stomach, anticipation for a new adventure building. They grin at each other.

“Take off your clothes,” Yasha states bluntly.

“What?”

“Get naked and get in here with me. This could be one of our last nights here, at least for a while, and I wanna do it in this tub at least once. It’s kind of incredible we haven’t done it in here before, honestly.”

“You know,” Beau says as she strips off her shirt and moves to do the same to her pants, “That is a bit of a travesty, isn’t it? We should rectify it immediately.” Yasha laughs in delight as Beau hops in the tub with a splash.

* * *

It takes them a couple of days to get everything in order before leaving for Emon. Marion and Babenon shut down the Chateau the night before they’re set to leave and throw them a going away dinner with the whole staff. It’s a great time; everyone seems genuinely happy for Beau and Yasha setting off on a new journey together. They promise Marion they’ll write often and send her gifts from their travels. As the party winds down, Yasha pulls Beau out the door and they manage to slip away. They spend their last night in Nicodranas together, sitting on the beach, watching the tides roll out to sea.

They leave to meet Allura at the Tidepeak Tower in the morning. The walk over is spent nearly bouncing with anxious excitement. Beau has read about Tal’Dorei and Emon a bit before, and she’s told Yasha all she knows, but the continent remains mostly a mystery, one she’s eager to uncover with Yasha by her side.

Allura waits for them outside the Tower walls and greets them warmly when they approach. She had been thrilled when they had returned to agree to her deal, promising the very best hospitality upon arriving in Emon. “Good morning, ladies,” she says, “Are we ready to depart? I thought we’d use the circle today. Save myself a spell for the day, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Honestly, us non-magic-y folks can’t really tell the difference, so…,” Beau jokes and earns a breathy little laugh from Allura.

“I suppose that’s true. Now, shall we?” Allura waves a hand and behind her the door to the tower opens. The pair follows behind her as she leads them to the teleportation circle. Allura spends a minute muttering an incantation and the sigils on the floor begin to glow with life. “Alright then,” she says as she strides into the circle and disappears. Beau spares a glance up towards Yasha before they step in together.

It’s been over a year since they’ve teleported – not since Essek left them at the Ashguard Garrison – and Beau can’t help but feel a little disoriented at the whoosh-drop feeling that slides through her whole body before she finds her feet underneath her again. They’re suddenly standing in a small room, the circle beneath them still prickling with the last sparks of energy on top of a white marble floor. The room is mostly empty, containing a single desk by a small window.

“Beauregard, Yasha, welcome to my home,” Allura says and holds her hands out, motioning to the walls around them, “I would love to give you a tour, but it’s probably best that we sort out our business first. The Pansophical was quite anxious to have this transaction completed as soon as possible. Come, I’ll show you to the laboratory.” With that she walks out of the room, the blue skirts of her dress swishing behind her.

They step out into the central chamber of the tower, a large shaft completely lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, hundreds of feet of tomes and papers and volumes. Allura goes to stand where the railing opens and waves her hand. A single marble platform rushes up from the lower floors and hovers, seemingly waiting for them to get on. Allura does, and Beau and Yasha follow. Then she waves her hand again and they’re slowly ascending to the upper floors. Beau watches as the shelves pass by, trying to read as many titles off as many book spines as she can.

They come to a stop at the very top of the tower and Allura leads them into a large room that apparently serves as her laboratory. The room is so large, Beau observes as they enter, that it can’t possibly make sense within the dimensions of a tower. Then again, she’s seen crazier shit.

“Alright. Now, I think you mentioned the crest is in some sort of magical vault. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look.”

The vault is with Yasha today, inside her large rucksack that holds just about everything she owns and quite a bit of Beau’s. She pulls out the little amber from an inside pocket and hands it over. Allura places it in the center of the large open floor. Beau and Yasha instinctively step back, well aware of what usually happens when the vault is opened by force.

Allura points her finger at the stone and recites an incantation. Instantly, the vault’s entire contents spill out over the floor. The crest is there, as well as entire cart’s worth of fireworks, a sizable pile of books, and a spherical glowing yellow gem that rolls to a skittering stop at Allura’s feet.

“Okay, the crest seems to be just as you said, but… what, pray tell, might this be?” She toes the Cloven Crystal, moves it back and forth a bit.

Beau and Yasha share a panicked look. “Um. Well… It _might_ be the last remaining key preventing an evil ancient sea leviathan from returning and wreaking terror across the Lucidian Ocean for all eternity,” Beau rushes out all at once.

“Just be glad we didn’t travel here by boat,” Yasha deadpans next to her.

Allura is gobsmacked. “Um…”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you! It honestly kind of slipped our minds. It usually isn’t a big deal. Unless you’re near the water. Like Yasha said. Then it’s kind of a big deal. But now that it’s here, maybe you can put it somewhere safe? Like you’re going to do with the crest?”

“Well,” Allura huffs, “Emon is a port city, so we are _kind of_ near water. I think it’d be better if I just…” Allura picks up the Crystal, speaks an arcane phrase, and it disappears. “For safekeeping. Until I speak to the Pansophical about a more permanent location for it.”

“Thanks,” Beau mutters, embarrassed.

“Now,” Allura says and steps closer to the threshold crest, begins to walk slowly around it, “This really is quite the specimen, isn’t it? Remarkable.” She eyes it, observes it, but makes no move to touch it. “I am a bit worried about residual energies it might carry, given where it originated.” She moves her hands around it, weaves glyphs and runes with her motions. “Hmm. Nothing I can detect on first glance. But I’m going to need some help for one more thing…” Beau and Yasha watch as Allura takes a few steps back and turns around, then mutters under her breath, “If you’re home, could you please come up to the laboratory? I could use your help with something.”

Allura turns back to them and smiles. “Apologies. This will just take a minute.”

“No problem,” Beau says and goes over to look forlornly at her scattered fireworks all over the ground. She glances back to Yasha. “Don’t suppose any of these would fit in your bag, huh?,” she laments.

“Stuffed full, Beau. I’m sorry.”

“I could, if you like,” Allura interjects, “Provide you with a bag of holding. I have quite a few laying around. Making them is kind of a hobby.”

“That would be amazing, Allura thank you,” Yasha says, probably grateful to take some weight off her pack.

It’s then that door opens. “What’s the problem up here, babe?,” they hear from behind them. A halfling woman in glittering gold armor enters the room. “Oh, we have guests,” she says when she notices Beau and Yasha, “And here I was thinking you were calling me up here for something a little more _fun_ , Allie.”

“Kima,” Allura mutters an admonishment, but blushes nonetheless. “Yasha, Beauregard, this is my wife, Lady Kima of Vord. Kima, this is Beauregard and Yasha, the friends I told you about from Wildemount. The ones with the crest.”

“Oh, no shit! Welcome!” She walks over to shake Beau and Yasha’s hands with a shockingly strong grip for such a small figure. They’re an odd couple, at first glance, Beau thinks and wonders if that might be how other people see her and Yasha; rough brashness and elegant grace. “Now what do want me to do, Allie? This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

“I just thought it would be prudent to do a routine check of the artifact. Maybe see if it’s maligned with any dark presences. Or good ones, who knows, really.”

“Gotcha, gimme a sec.” Kima says an incantation of her own and holds her hands out over the crest, closing her eyes in concentration. She stands there, unmoving, for a minute before breaking the spell, “Nope. Nothing coming off of this, good or bad. But her?,” she spins to look at Yasha, pointing at her with her thumb, “Just dripping with celestial energy. Made it real hard to concentrate on the crest.”

“Oh? You are planetouched, Yasha? I had no idea,” Allura says curiously.

Yasha, looking a bit troubled that the attention so rapidly shifted onto her, says, “Um. I am an aasimar, if that’s what planetouched means. I know I don’t really look it most of the time. I mean I didn’t even know what I was until I met Beau and the others.”

“Now that is _fascinating_ ,” Kima says, seeming a thousand times more interested in Yasha than she ever did in the crest. “Do you have a patron, then?”

“A patron?”

“Yeah, a patron. Like, most aasimar have an angel or deva or other entity who speaks to them, guides them, gives them a purpose.”

“Oh, well, I follow the Stormlord.”

Kima barks out a laugh. “Kord? Really?” It’s disbelief, not judgment, in Kima’s voice, but Beau doesn’t know nearly enough about gods or religion to know why it might be placed there.

“Yes, I… He found me, when I was in my lowest place. Saved me. I still don’t know for what purpose exactly.”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Kord going for an angelkin. Must be a pretty good reason.”

“And how do you know all this, exactly?,” Beau jumps in, perhaps a little too defensively, but she can feel Yasha growing more and more uncomfortable under the spotlight.

“Relax, kid. I don’t mean anything negative by it, your lady here just has a very unusual story, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“She’s a little prickly isn’t she? I like her, Allie,” Kima says to Allura.

“Remind you of someone?,” Allura replies smugly. She’s got a journal out now, taking notes as she circles the crest.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Kima continues, “I’m a paladin of the Platinum Dragon. Religion, gods? Kind of my thing. Satisfied?,” she asks Beau who just shrugs a shoulder in return. “Listen,” Kima turns her attention back to Yasha, “If you find yourself in Vasselheim, you should stop by The Trial Forge, it’s the center of all worship of Kord in Exandria. Maybe they can give you some answers.”

“I… thank you. I will definitely think about that.” Yasha wears an unreadable expression and Beau knows she’s going to have to ask about it later.

“Well, I better be going then,” Kima says and strides over to Allura to plant a kiss on her cheek, “Nice meeting you two. Message if you need anything else, Allie.” And she’s out the door, quickly as she appeared.

Allura continues taking notes for a moment before shutting her book. “Well. Everything seems to be in order. I’d better take this to the Pansophical right away. I should only be a few hours before returning with your payment. After that, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you’d like. We definitely have the space for it. And even if we didn’t, I could just make some more. Perks of a wizard’s tower, you know,” Allura says with a glint in her eye.

Allura shows them to an empty guest chamber where they set their things down before leaving the tower to explore the city. They don’t go too far from the tower, they stick to the Cloudtop District, not wanting to wander too far in case Allura returns. It’s a beautiful day; Emon doesn’t have the tropical humidity of the Menagerie Coast cities, but is markedly warmer than the Empire and certainly Xhorhas. It probably reminds Beau of Zadash more than anything, but it still has a distinctly foreign feel. They circle the entire district twice, taking everything in, before Allura sends a message around dinner time calling them back to her tower.

When they return Allura hands them a _sizable_ bag of coin. The thing is almost as big as Beau’s backpack and the weight of it makes her arms sag when she picks it up. When they take it back to their room to open and assess its contents, Beau chokes on her own breath when she sees it’s all platinum. “Holy. Shit. This is going to last us… forever. We could live off of this for literally the rest of our lives.”

“Wow…,” Yasha whispers in amazement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much money in one place.” She’s quiet for a moment, contemplative. “We should send some to the Brenattos. And the Clays. And probably Marion too, even though she doesn’t need it. It’s only right.”

“Right. Yeah. Definitely.” Beau internally scolds her own initial selfishness and starts parsing some coin out into three piles. Even after the allotment, it’s still enough money for Beau and Yasha to live on for the foreseeable future, and Beau is so relieved they won’t have to worry about it anymore.

Allura calls them down to dinner after a little while and they share a meal with her and Kima. Any lingering tension between Beau and Kima disappears quickly as they get to swapping battle stories; a mutual respect begins to form between the two women. As the conversation goes on, Allura begins to tell them a bit about the deal with crest and the Pansophical.

“I told them about the situation with your friends, as much detail as you gave me,” she says to Beau and Yasha, “They agreed to look into it. But I have to tell you plainly, their hopes are… not high. Planar magic is a bit like finding a needle in a haystack if you don’t know exactly where you’re looking.”

Yasha and Beau share a sad look before Yasha says, “Thank you. We know it’s a long shot, but… we have to try, you know?”

Allura shares a look with Kima, so similar to the one Beau and Yasha had just shared. “We do know. Too well, actually. We were in an adventuring party a long time ago. It’s where we met – another similarity between us, I suppose. But we lost someone, one of our own. It was a terrible, terrible pain. It broke the group up in the end. Even drove us apart for a time.” She lays her hand atop Kima’s on the table, squeezes it.

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry,” Beau says.

“Thank you. But know that it does get easier, with time. And how wonderful it is that you have each other through it.” Beau feels Yasha place her hand on her thigh under the table at those words. “Now, there is one other matter to discuss. The Pansophical believes it’s best if you two would wear these for a time, just until more is understood about the crest.” Allura procures two small medallions dangling from silver chains, slides them across the table.

“What are they?,” Yasha asks as she picks one up.

“They are magical objects that will prevent you from being watched, essentially.” Beau thinks back to Caleb’s necklace. “The Pansophical thinks it prudent, since you were in such close proximity for so long to the artifact and in the ruins of Aeor itself, and given the threat of this living city you reported, that you protect yourselves from any wandering eyes, shall we say.”

Yasha puts hers around her neck, tucks the medallion into her top. “Do you think we’re in danger?,” she asks as Beau slides hers into her pocket.

“It’s impossible to know, there’s just so little information at this point. There is nothing wrong with an overabundance of caution, however.”

“That’s smart, yeah,” Beau says, “Thank you, Allura.”

* * *

It’s later, back in the guest chambers, while they’re undressing and getting ready to sleep when Yasha says, “You didn’t put on your necklace.”

Beau isn’t surprised she noticed, but she really wished she hadn’t. “Yeah… It didn’t really go with my outfit, so…”

“Beau.”

Beau sits down on the edge of the bed, looks up at Yasha standing in front of her. “It’s just… What if we wear these and then they can’t find us?” She feels stupid for even saying it, stupid for hoping.

Yasha sits down next to her, pulls her close. “Oh, love.” A kiss to the top of her head. “When they come back, they’ll find us, magic or not. It won’t be hard. Marion knows we went with Allura. She’ll tell them. It’ll just take a little longer.”

Beau leans further into Yasha. “You’re right… I just… Sometimes, when I’m about to fall asleep, I swear I can hear Jester’s voice in my head, telling us they’re back, that they’re coming to us. And I know it’s dumb, but there’s still a tiny part of me that hopes. That just maybe, it’ll be real next time.”

“It’s not dumb, Beau. It’s never dumb.”

“I just don’t want this sadness anymore.” Her voice is so small now, muffled in the skin of Yasha’s shoulder.

“You can never be rid of it. Not this kind. You just have to let yourself heal around it.” They hold each other for several long moments before Yasha stands again and goes to retrieve Beau’s discarded pants off the floor. She fishes the silver medallion out of the pocket. “Will you wear it? For me, at least? I…” She trails off before regaining her composure, “I couldn’t protect them. But I can still protect you. I just want you to be safe, Beau. That’s all I want.”

All Beau can manage is a teary nod. She lifts her hair up and exposes her neck to Yasha, who moves to slip the necklace around her. When the clasp is sealed and medallion presses cool against Beau’s chest, it feels a little bit like healing.

* * *

Beau and Yasha spend the next day in one of Allura’s many libraries, pouring over books and maps, trying to create an itinerary for their travel around Tal’Dorei. They know no one here, have no one to visit, save for potentially Vilya, but they realize they don’t have enough information to track down her whereabouts.

(“We could ask Allura, maybe she’d know.”

“Yash, not everyone on Tal’Dorei knows each other. That’s probably, like, offensive to ask.”)

They eventually decide to travel south on the Emerald Path and head to the elven city of Syngorn. Neither one of them has visited an elven city before; in fact, Beau is pretty sure there is only one on the entire continent of Wildemount. When the planning is done, they go out into the city for dinner, then tuck into bed early, wanting to be well-rested for the day of travel ahead.

Beau awakes with a start. It’s still dark in their bedroom as a huge clap of thunder jolts her further out of sleep. A following flash of lightning illuminates Yasha’s silhouette by the window, just standing, staring.

“Yasha? Babe, you okay?”

Yasha does not break her stare out the window. “I had a dream.”

Another gargantuan clap of thunder, so big that Beau jumps in surprise. Yasha does not flinch. “Okay… What kind of dream?”

“From him.”

“Oh. First one in a long time, huh? Is it… something he wants?”

Yasha still does not turn to look at her. “I saw a temple. A fighting pit. I think it was the place Kima mentioned. Vasselheim. I have to go there.”

“Okay. We go there, then.” Beau sits up further in bed, hugs her knees to her chest under the blankets.

Yasha finally looks back to her. “I’m sorry.”

Beau gets up, comes behind Yasha and wraps her arms around her waist, presses her face between her shoulder blades. “Don’t apologize.”

Yasha places her hands over Beau’s and leans her head back, lets out a sigh. “We had just planned this whole trip and now…”

“Hey. We can still do that trip after. It’s not a problem. We just get to do a whole new adventure first.”

* * *

They inform Allura of their change in plans the next morning in hopes that she can bring them straight to Vasselheim. “Oh, well that certainly explains the storm last night. Very unusual that we’d get one that strong this time of year,” she says when she hears of the previous night’s events. “But yes, I can bring you. This works out very fortuitously, actually, as I was going to bring Kima there today anyway. She’ll be able to show you where you need to go once you arrive.”

Allura teleports with the three of them in tow from Emon around noon, though it is still morning when they arrive outside the gates of Vasselheim. Both Allura and Kima had explained that magic use is strictly forbidden inside the walls of the city, so the gate is as close as they can get. Allura sets off again immediately, back to the Pansophical to study the crest. Kima takes Beau and Yasha to the Braving Grounds district, where they would find the temple from Yasha’s dream.

The Trial Forge is incredible; Beau is sure there is no structure like it in Wildemount. Guards line the path up the steps to the massive rusted doors, and on top of the temple stands a titanic sized statue of Kord able to be seen through the entire district. Yasha simply stands and looks up at for a moment. “I’d never seen what he looks like,” she says quietly. She then begins to ascend the steps, determinedly heading toward the temple entrance.

Beau does not immediately follow. “Do you want me to come with you?,” she asks when Yasha turns back, a questioning look in her eyes.

“Always.”

The temple is not empty when they enter. There are dozens of acolytes adorned in red and gold shuffling about the building, but not a one stops to say a word to either of them. Beau isn’t sure if Yasha knows what to do, but she follows the other woman anyway as she walks deeper into the temple.

They eventually come to a circular room, mostly empty save for the sunken sand covered fighting pit in the center. The scones on the wall burn lowly and there is no one else in the chamber. Beau opens her mouth to ask Yasha if this is really where she’s supposed to be when a figure enters from a door on the other side of the room.

“You’ve come,” the figure says. A woman, middle-aged and impossibly muscular, wearing similar red and gold robes to the followers they’d seen before and a necklace of massive red beads. Her eyes are entirely white, just faintly glowing.

“Do you know who I am?,” Yasha calls back.

“Just that you are the one seeking to prove. Tell me, what is your name?” Their voices echo around the empty chamber.

“Yasha. Yasha Nydoorin.”

“Yasha Nydoorin. I am Earthbreaker Desir. Drop your weapons, enter.” Earthbreaker Desir gestures to the steps leading down to the pit. Yasha obeys; places her swords down and hands her pack to Beau. They share a look before Yasha moves to descend the stairs.

She comes to stand a few feet in front of the Earthbreaker. Though Yasha is much taller, the other woman as some kind of unnatural physical presence; it makes her seem bigger, more formidable. Desir takes up a fighting stance and Beau immediately knows she’s a monk of some kind, though she doesn’t yet recognize the form. “Show me. Prove.”

Yasha raises her own fists and throws a punch. Desir dodges easily. A second punch, harder, and also a miss, sends Yasha stumbling. Earthbreaker Desir lands an elbow onto Yasha’s back. Yasha snarls. Beau can see the fury building white hot under her skin – rage. Yasha spins and lands a vicious body blow before Desir parries her next strike and flips her to the ground. “Prove,” she says again.

Yasha gets up and runs toward Desir with a growl, grappling her around the waist, and slamming her against the wall behind them. Desir strikes back, a knee to the gut and a jab to the neck. A few monks gather in the viewing area as the women trade blows in the pit. Desir undoubtedly has the upper hand, but Yasha manages to land routine hits.

Eventually, when they’re both a bit bloodied, Earthbreaker Desir unleashes a violent flurry of strikes that stagger Yasha. She then opens her palm, to what Beau is sure will be a brutal knockout blow. Just as Desir begins to move her arm forward, Beau sends her eyes to the ground, unable to watch. She hears the sickening impact and then a gasp from the onlookers around her.

She looks back down to the pit and there is Yasha, still standing. Blood is pouring from Yasha’s nose and mouth and the Earthbreaker looks on, visibly shaken, seemingly unable to believe Yasha weathered that blow standing, for just a moment before she recomposes herself. She unloads another torrent of blows at Yasha. They all land. She takes five, six, seven, eight hits to her head and torso. She does not go down. She stands there, shoulders heaving with the force of her breath, and just stares at Earthbreaker Desir.

Desir’s arms drop to her sides in shock and there is silence in the room. Then, in a flash of radiant light, Yasha’s wings emerge from her back. Hushed gasps and whispers resonate through the onlooking worshipers as Yasha steps forwards to the Earthbreaker. She throws a jab that knocks Desir off balance and then a savage hook that sends her straight to the ground, out cold.

Silence falls on the onlookers once more, as they struggle to rationalize what they just witnessed. Earthbreaker Desir comes to after a few moments. Just as she pulls herself up to a knee, an almighty clap of thunder blasts through the arena, as if it originated from the very ground it stands on. It rumbles low, for a length of time that should not be possible, and eventually the thunder forms a single word, clear as day.

“Chosen.”

Desir stays on her knee and bows her head reverently. All the acolytes in the room follow. It takes Beau a minute to realize that they are bowing towards _Yasha_ , as she still stands, blood of angels and heart of storms. Desir then retreats back into the room she entered from. Yasha looks up to Beau, a nervous look on her face, and Beau wants nothing more than to rush down to her, kiss her and wipe the blood from her brow. She resists, as Earthbreaker Desir returns, holding some sort of metal case.

She stands in front of Yasha and opens the case. Inside lay a belt of some kind, thick leather and ivory, bearing the brand of Kord. “This is one of our most treasured artifacts. It has gone unearned and dormant for many centuries,” she lifts the belt from its case, “It is yours now, Yasha Nydoorin. You have proven. You have earned. You are chosen.” Desir hands the belt to Yasha, who accepts it with shaking hands.

“I… I don’t know… how I can use this. I don’t go… I lost my group. My friends. I don’t know my purpose. I don’t know why I was chosen.” Yasha’s voice is small and pleading.

“Then you will stay here until you find your purpose.”

* * *

Beau and Yasha stay. Those first few nights are spent in an inn while they look for a more permanent residence. They end up purchasing a little house on a hill in The Abundant Terrace. Yasha falls in love with the perennially blooming greenery of the district, and Beau couldn’t bear to argue, despite it being on the other side of the city from the Trial Forge. The house is secluded, sitting far back the hill and surrounded by tall oak trees on every side. Yasha starts a garden right away, and quickly their little house becomes more of a home than Beau has ever known.

Yasha goes to the Trial Forge almost every day. Beau tries to play homemaker for a little while, and, for a little while, she enjoys it. She learns how to fix up the house and tend to the yard. She goes shopping in the markets and does their laundry. Seeing Yasha’s grateful face at the end of the day does make it all worth it for Beau, but she can’t help but grow restless.

It’s about three months into their stay in Vasselheim when the restlessness comes to a head. “Hey Yasha,” she calls one night after dinner, “You wanna give me a shave?” Beau asking for a shave has, over time, become code for ‘Beau wants to talk about something’. Beau thinks it’s because it’s harder to run from a conversation when someone is holding a blade to your head.

They set up in the washroom and Yasha gets to work, just waiting for Beau to start talking. “So…,” Beau starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“I think… I think I might want to go back to the Cobalt Soul. Not as an expositor. Well, not right away. Maybe just an archivist position?”

Yasha puts the blade down against the wash basin. “Really?”

“Yeah. I think I’m ready. And I mean, I know you’d have to give up having your good little housewife, but…”

“Beau,” Yasha admonishes as she picks the blade back up and swats Beau on the top of the head with the flat of it. “I just want you to be happy. I can tell you’ve been restless here these past few weeks.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, actually. I just wanted to make sure I was really sure about it, you know?”

Yasha hums an agreement as she continues the shave. “So, when did you want to start?”

“I was thinking I could go down to the Cobalt Vault tomorrow? Do you think that’s too soon?”

“If you’re sure, it’s never too soon. I could walk you there, if you’re nervous.”

Beau can see Yasha smiling to herself in the mirror. She takes a look at her own reflection, meets her own gaze. For months after Eiselcross, she couldn’t look in the mirror, couldn’t reconcile with the fact that she was so real and there and alive, while her friends were so _not_. But today Beau looks at herself and does not look away. “Can you cut my hair?,” she suddenly asks.

“I am cutting your hair.”

“No like, my actual hair,” she grabs her long ponytail, “I want it shorter.”

“Okay… I’ll need a different knife for that though.” Yasha leaves the room and comes back with a new knife. Beau measures out where she wants the cut and Yasha lops it off in one smooth stroke.

Beau looks back to the mirror. Her hair now stops at her chin. She grins at her reflection. “I love it,” she says.

* * *

Beau heads to the Cobalt Vault the next morning. The High Curator offers her a job within two minutes of starting their conversation, and a good one, too. She gets to self-direct, gets to choose pretty much all of her own research topics. The Vault in Vasselheim is so impressive, filled with books older than Wildemount itself, she never runs out of exciting leads to chase. Yasha is proud of her too, she knows; Beau can tell every time her eyes light up as she listens to her ramble excitedly about a new project over dinner.

Her life is so good; almost perfect. But Beau doesn’t let that _almost_ guilt her anymore. She knows her friends would want her to be happy, would want Yasha to be happy. They never give up hope, of course, but that hope becomes more passive with time. They don’t let it bankrupt their joy.

A year to the day that Beau and Yasha arrived in Vasselheim, as they sit out on a blanket in their yard watching the stars, Yasha presses a ring into Beau’s hand. “It can mean whatever you want,” she says with a shrug.

“Yasha…” Beau is breathless as she examines the ring. It’s simple; silver with with a stripe of crushed sapphire. She’s never really thought about marriage. Growing up, the only concept of marriage she had was the one given to her by her parents: politically advantageous and loveless, and to a man. Later on, the only person she’s ever had even close to marriage type feelings for is Yasha. And she’s truly never thought about marrying Yasha because she’d always thought it was something Yasha wouldn’t be interested in, given her past. “I don’t…”

“It can just be a ring, if you don’t want it to mean more.”

“I want it to mean everything.”

“Then it’s everything.”

They don’t marry, not formally. They don’t really see a point in a ceremony. The only people they know in the city are work colleagues, and anyone else they’d want to invite are so few and spread out across Exandria that they decide it isn’t worth it. Besides, a ceremony would only accentuate the absence of the five people they’d want to be there most. Beau wears her ring and buys one for Yasha. It might be the happiest moment of her life, when she slides it onto Yasha’s finger.

It’s not a big change, sometimes Beau doesn’t even think about it. But sometimes, like when the woman she’s buying flowers from asks who they’re for, and she answers with, ‘my wife’, it’ll have Beau smiling to herself for the rest of the day.

* * *

Another year passes, and they’re still as happy as ever. Beau had initially worried about putting down more permanent roots, that she’d get restless and anxious and want to pull the whole thing up and start over. But those feelings never come. She loves her job, she loves her home, and she loves Yasha. Sure, there’s things she’d change if she could, but she doesn’t let them eat away at her anymore. She’s healed around the pain, made it sturdy and strong; a foundation.

A foundation, like the one she’s building for this chicken coop she’d promised Yasha. Beau had planned everything out, tilled and leveled the earth before realizing the chosen site has a massive root growing just underneath it and she’d have to move the whole project several yards to the left. She grumbles to herself as she lugs the tools and lumber over to the new location.

To make things even more annoying, a tabby cat comes up to harry her, rubbing at her legs incessantly. It’s a very common occurrence here in The Abundant Terrace. The district is very hospitable to wildlife and most residents’ idea of animal control is to just let any stray take up on their property for as long as they’d like. “Go on,” she says to the cat, shooing it. It doesn’t take the hint. She kicks at it, perhaps a little too hard, and Beau feels an immediate pang of shame. When she turns around to apologize – well, as best one can to a cat – curiously, the cat is gone. As if it had vanished into thin air.

“I must be going crazy,” she mutters and gets back to her work. Then she swears she hears her name being called. She thinks Yasha, at first, but quickly remembers she’s probably still on her way back from the temple.

Then she hears it again, “Beau!” She looks around. Nothing. Maybe she is going crazy. “Beau!” It’s for sure there this time. She walks around the front of the house and looks down towards the street.

  
  
There is a little blue tiefling charging up the hill. And following right behind, a halfling, hair in two long braids. A moment passes. Then there is a tall half-orc and a scruffy human man, both looking a little out of breath. Behind them trots a pink firbolg, leaning his weight onto a gnarled staff.

Beau lets out a choked gasp of shock. She takes off. She runs so fast she can almost feel herself losing balance with every stride. She half expects to pass right through them, for a cruel illusion to be placed in front of her, but she collides, heavy and solid against Jester. They fall in a laughing, crying puddle. First Veth piles on top of them and then Fjord. Beau reaches up to yank Caleb and Caduceus down with them when they don’t immediately follow.

They get up only after Beau realizes she can’t breathe, Fjord pulling her to her feet. “Beau! Beau, where’s Yasha?,” Jester asks, tears still streaming down her face. Beau still can’t even believe she’s here. That they’re all here. That they’re alive and _here_.

“Uh… fuck,” she’s crying so hard she can barely speak, “She’s, uh… She should be home any minute.” As if on cue, she sees Yasha arrive at the bottom of the hill.

“Yasha! Yasha!,” Veth yells, jumping up and down and waving her arms above her head.

Yasha just stands frozen for a moment. She rubs her eyes once in disbelief. When she opens them again, she takes off running. And then her wings unfurl and she’s gliding towards them, Beau isn’t even sure if it was completely voluntary. She grabs Veth, scooping her into the air with her, gives her a twirl before setting her down. They all swarm around her, pulling her into a hug. Beau makes teary eye contact with Yasha through the mass of bodies, wanting nothing more than to share this moment with her.

When the hug breaks everybody starts asking a million questions all at once. It’s a cacophony of noise until Caleb steps forwards, brandishing Calianna’s wand. “I know we all have plenty of stories to tell each other,” he says, “But how about we do it inside our home, over a nice meal?”

When the spell is cast, Beau takes Yasha’s hand and they step into the Nein-Sided Tower, finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter ended up being even longer than the first. Thanks to everyone who stuck through and read the whole thing, especially those of you who have left such kind comments.


End file.
